Nor the color of your skin
Only the weariness of your bones
slumped under the thin blanket
I know not your home
Nor the words of your religion
You are tree broken by storm
lying unwanted as stone by bench
I know not your journey
But from your bleeding feet
do I glimpse the weight of your cross
Brother
I did not call you,
Please forgive me-
Homeless Jesus Sculpture, Toronto City
Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - We have a guest host who is prompting this afternoon at 3pm EST~ We are writing about brother/ brotherhood ~ Thanks for the visit ~
A journey can take many misteps along the way. What a call might do
ReplyDeleteI like what aspect of brotherhood your poem makes us envisage, Grace. "You are tree broken by storm / lying unwanted as stone by bench" - as far as similes and metaphors go (since we were discussing them yesterday) I think you have conveyed strong images that will stay with us.
ReplyDeleteYour title asks an apt question, and your poem begs us to consider...just who is our brother, and how do we respond to them in the world? The mention of both the 'bleeding feet' and 'your cross' carries the poem to an even deeper level.
ReplyDeleteThis is easy to fix ... just leave a sandwich and hot coffee at his side ... or $20 ... or a coat ... or a blanket ... or gloves ... and make sure to candidly return to that bench to check ... phone ? chances are, he doesn't have one ... Jesus didn't ... and still does not ... I know ... Love, cat.
ReplyDeletePS: I love that pic ... smiles.
DeleteAmazing Grace!
ReplyDeleteTouched me so much!
I love the picture amazing too!
xo
the poem speaks to the conscience...
ReplyDeleteWhat an excellent response to the brotherhood.. Love the imagery of a tree broken by storm, and the image is perfect to fit the idea.
ReplyDeletePowerful, poignant and very effective, Grace. It makes us remember those often forgotten, and I thank you for that.
ReplyDeleteWe forget our call that all men and women are our brothers and sisters. The last lines are heartbreaking.
ReplyDeleteThis really moved me, Grace. Yes, who do we call brother? Who should we not be overlooking who many need us to be brotherly to them. An impelling, excellent piece.
ReplyDeleteA powerful and novel take on the prompt - does make you stop and wonder. How easily we bandy that word around (as Glenn says too in his poem) - brother - yet our actions often fail to live up to it.
ReplyDeleteawh... we all need to take care of each other... forgiveness a bit thing
ReplyDeleteI almost went toward the homeless as Muse myself, but found myself waxing profusely on brotherhood from several directions. This is truly a moving & powerful reminder to acknowledge the less fortunate among us. I often want to, but fear the scam, deception, & manipulation of some.
ReplyDeleteYears ago, I heard someone say, we are all brothers and sisters under the skin. The statue and the words call to mind this provocative and poignant statement. Am I my brother's keeper? This we must answer for ourselves.
ReplyDeleteThis travels far beyond brotherhood, Grace... friend, brother, sister... easily, those titles roll off our tongues, but the actions that give life to them are rare
ReplyDeleteVery interesting effect Grace, I have always wondered about writing about two brothers who are separated by continents - reminds me of that unfinished piece again.
ReplyDeleteYour poem and the picture of that statue brought me to tears. I know sentimentality does no good, but I do care. I just don't do enough I guess. Oops, my guilt is showing. Thank you for this prayerful poem Grace.
ReplyDeleteOh how rich our world could be if we could recognize that each person we see...regardless of their journey...is a brother or sister.
ReplyDeletepowerful and well written. a very felt piece.
ReplyDeleteWhat can only one call do....touching, awakening for some...
ReplyDeletetoo silent, too often, us all ~
ReplyDeleteOne of the most powerful poems I have read in a long, long while. So very well done. The picture was intersting, too
ReplyDeleteThese words should be engraved on every street corner.
ReplyDeleteThat was beautifully written!
ReplyDeleteI have come to the conclusion that i can not call all men brother, there are just too many drunken uncles at the table.
ReplyDeleteSo beautiful and poignant. Broken souls seem to stir our humanity back to life with a jolt - though often, I find, I am left feeling ineffectual and useless ... unable to find a place to put my sorrow.
ReplyDeleteDer Grace
ReplyDeleteYou are so god at expressing feeelings and situations!
Great done, Grace!
Hugs
JetteMajken
Haunting, touching, stirring. So powerful.
ReplyDeleteI loved this! Perfect timing and a great way to reflect just a bit. Thank you, as always, for sharing your talent with us. Have a wonderful week ahead!
ReplyDelete