Now that you have moved
into my heart, taken
the doors off their hinges and
removed the windows,
glass, sash and
all
beggars are coming from
everywhere for
your sweet embrace.
The beggars stream in from
every direction--walking, running, crawling,
rolling and being carried. The neighbors
have stopped
screaming about it. At first they had
plenty to say but after
weeks and weeks of this they
know there is no
helping it. This is beyond
city ordinances.
Soon they will be coming
themselves, dropping
rakes, dog leashes, clothespins,
leaving cars running
in the street, for a glimpse
of your holy face.
What am I to do but
watch in awe at the blessed
variety of your creation, the myriad wounds,
the incredible stories, the way they gather
around the door quivering
with the certain knowledge that finally
no one
will be turned away.
And stay in the house
making meals, and carrying
sheets up and down the stairs.
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