The Invisible

The streets cry out

from staggering figures

stuck in corners,

beneath bridges,

boarding rivers,

they call home.


Eating scraps

from dumpsters,

garbage cans,

behind stores,

leftover fragments, mere

crusty wrappers wafting

down streets.


Crumbs from the table

of those who have.



these shrouded humans

thousands of them

creeping in the dark.


They meander

their moments,

unkempt, dirty, smelly,

worn ridges in their faces;

some young, some old.


Unfortunate loss

of jobs

loss of homes

unexpected circumstances

in lost mental health.


They had no choice

but to move to the

streets they call home.



the commonality

of homelessness

is their bond.


They feel

less than

not enough

poorer than

the poor.


They line the


the highways

the darkened ways.


Many boarder

on insanity

in it all

yet do we

really SEE


as who they are?


Can we stop

and stay awhile

holding their hand

piercing their weary


in the compassionate divinity

we are called to carry to all?


Can we cherish

the souls

of those

whose fortune

dealt them this



Can we cherish



lending hope

giving aide

showing absolute love?


Can we stop

our busy schedules

and wait for one

to open up

scarred wounds

of what was done to them?


In our midst

they are

and we are the bridge

that binds

those who have nothing

to the land where plenty



Lord, give us eyes

to see the plight

of those in our midst

who also have needs

to belong

to be



and to be shown

the same tender


care you have

with our souls.


Lord, help us

all in this path

to show mercy

to be your grace

in the depth



is known

touching those

who are in need of your love.


Lord, may we be

mindful of all those

we meet in this life

on this journey

in the holy

pilgrimage in

becoming spiritual sages

reaching out

stepping outside

walking hand in hand

with all our brothers

and sisters



the downtrodden

with simple acts

of kindness.


Intentional Living
















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