“Feed my Lambs” -JC

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My day is almost over

Light lingers on far off

Hills

But cannot hold the sun

That moves below the sea’s

Horizon

Leaves a clue of its descent

In a small pink cloud

 

Supper comes

When day is closing

Thoughts of those

Who won’t have this

Meal

Rise inside my mind

Fill my heart with a living

Sadness

 

“Gather ye the harvest”

Of wasted food

Do not throw away

What does not sell

What isn’t ordered

Off a menu

Sold by dates

Not long past

Give to the homeless

To shelters

Where the unwanted

Live

Wasted food     so much

Waste

Enough to feed the hungry

World

-2015

Image credit

Truth to Tell

I Love these days

Letting go their light

Into a darkening sky

Late in an autumn’s

Afternoon

As the sun descends

Over the waiting ocean

Sends its final rays

Against the side

Of a distant hill

A canvas for many shades

Of mauve

That signal the end

Of day

 

I love the hints of

Coming night

Street lights on

House windows lit from

Within

Are there children

Around a kitchen table

Heads bent over books

Pencils in hands

Logs in a fireplace

Ready to burn away

A season’s chill

 

Then images of the many

With no place of their

Own

Nowhere to go

Push their way into my

Thoughts

Of home     of comfort

Full bellies

Stark realities of days

Growing shorter     nights longer

Colder

It is a duality of feelings

Inside me

Long in my life

Have I Loved fall’s dwindling

Days

Loved a friendly dark

Closing in

But there are two sides

To this picture

I would it were not

So

Would it were not

So

Not so

Terrence

homeless-rain

Finally

Rain comes

Sky dark with clouds

Holding water

Release it in sheets

That slant sideways

Onto the street

Out my kitchen

Window

 

It is to celebrate

This rain

That has not watered

Us

For many months

With so generous

An amount

I watch it

Give thanks for

It

Then feeling gratitude

For being warm

Being dry

Inside my own

Home

My thoughts flash

To Terrence

Living on the grass

With his possessions

Above Swamis Beach

Whom I meet

One beautiful afternoon

When sprays of white

Appear    disappear

Appear again

Far out in the ocean

From the gray whales

On their journey south

To Baja

 

Where is Terrance now

Where are the homeless

Where can they go

To be warm

Be dry

Be safe

 

Later in the night

Rain pounds noisily

On the roof

Splashes against the bedroom

Windows

My thoughts harbor

The homeless

The children

And I tell myself

If you truly care

Find a way

Fortunate woman

Find a way

To help

view-to-south-from-swami