It is work to walk by thousands
always seeing never seen.
Eyes that hide while being open
afraid to meet a stranger’s gaze.
Wishing just for peace and shelter,
but somehow finding isolation’s rage.
Sorrows burden bringing silence.
Hiding us in death’s despair.
Pain and all its broken whispers
stretch out claws to draw out blood.
As we shelter, looking inward,
people stream by just outside.
It so hard to shift the focus
shifting eyes to something bright.
Hear a voice that’s somehow sweeter-
feel what stirs then bursts in song.
Colour’s textures, filter through it-
a tantalizing master piece of love!
Startle’s interruption forming –
eyes that penetrate the veil.
Riches can not buy the sweetness
of the effervescent kiss of light.
Being known and being welcomed
is the Spirit’s way to life.
Author – Bill Tidsbury