Susan P. Blevins

Poverty is a sad and lonely land
I see you trudging down the street
through its dark labyrinths
pushing the supermarket wagon with
all your worldly goods stacked high

I see your unwashed, unkempt hair
grey face and dirty clothes
you stop to count your money with arthritic hands,
slowly shifting coins back and forth

Feed the body first
then sort out the
broken lives

I do not know where you live, but
I do know that if you are lucky
it is in a school bus, crafting jewelry from
bits of leather, feathers and stones

Only when love reaches out to hold
you in warm embrace, offers you a
hot meal, a new pair of shoes
can you reclaim your dignity and self-respect

Only when stone-cold, ironclad hearts
break open, spewing prodigal quantities of
compassion, food and funds
can the poor forgotten embarrassments to society
be redeemed and brought back into the light and
love of an evolved and just society

Only love can fund such enterprise
heal the wounds, soothe the soul
love as free as the air we breathe
redeeming the receiver
but most of all
the giver