I saw him again yesterday
the wandering vagrant
true beauty disguised
in ripped, button down shirt,
the wild beard hiding
strong and dignified chin.

Close enough to hear,
‘Spare some change, please’
a simple request
delivered with tone calm and polite
routinely ignored yet offering,
‘God bless you’
to those that turn away.

Christ is often on his lips
and walking at his side.
This poet of Portobello,
this son of the living God.

I’ll see him again today
and my heart will be heavy,
I’ll return to my home,
To my knees,
To my prayers
and they shall say
‘Isn’t he good, isn’t he holy’

But that man
My brother
Will still be hungry.
Whatever you did
for the least of these
you did to me.


(Written: 27.VII.17)


3 thoughts on “Him

Add yours

  1. Poignant. I could envision your experience.
    Do you engage the homeless man and bless him? Just wondering.
    Thank you for your poem. It touched & challenged me.


    1. Good afternoon and thank you for your kind comment. I did have a brief chat with him. He asked me to pray for him, I continue to do so.


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