The Righteous

A man came to my door,

He asked me for some bread;

However, he was ugly—I turned away.

A woman came to my home,

She was thirsty after travelling;

However, her clothes were torn—I closed the door.

A stranger came to me,

He was foreign to this place;

However, I was busy—I sent him home.

A child came to my house,

Shivering small and cold;

However, my son was sick—I shut her out.

Tonight I sit outside (it is a beautiful night)

I lost my family to misfortune—long ago,

Weary and alone I prayed. To someone.

A man came near to me, too near,

“I have clothes. And food and shelter”

—I ponder his intentions, hesitant.

“God has told me to provide—

He was never gone, at all,”

 I took a moment, thoughtful—

Then I wept.

Slowly at first—then all at once.