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The Vagabond - Visitor's Spiritual Poem

by Richard John Scarr
(Brighton. East Sussex . England )

"You can't sleep there," the policeman said
to the vagabond who lay on the seat.
And taking him roughly by the arm,
he pulled him up onto his feet.

Then looking the vagabond up and down,
the policeman gave vent to a sneer.
"Pick up your bundle and get out of town.
Your likes is not wanted round here!"

"Why does a worthless old hobo like you,
with nothing to live for, survive?
While a wonderful woman, the love of my life,
gets sick with cancer and dies."

"We had wonderful plans for the future.
We had both built our dreams upon.
Now all those dreams have gone up in smoke.
And what will i do now she's gone?"

But ignoring the other man's insult.
Voice filled with compassion and care.
The hobo replied: "You are hurting inside.
And feel your loss is just too much to bear."

"But life is eternal. The soul lives on.
And you will be together again.
And until that time comes, she walks at your side,
sharing your heartache and pain."

"How would a useless old vagrant like you,
know what becomes of the soul?
There is only one place we go when we die.
And that's down in a six by three hole!"

"I may be a vagrant," the hobo replied.
"And in your eyes, as low as can be.
But sometimes even a vagabond,
is given a third eye to see."

"Enough of this nonsense!" the policeman replied.
"Move on! Get back on the road!"
And muttering as he went on his way:
"He's a brick or two short of a load!"

It was less than a year, when a voice in his ear,
said: "i'm sorry to wake you again.
But I had to come through, for I owed it to you.
You were right. And i'm deeply ashamed!"

"You offered me all your compassion.
But I threw it right back in your face.
Now I humbly ask your forgiveness.
What I did was a total disgrace!"

"I was just too stubborn to listen.
To someone so down in the mire.
Now I know the lord had sent me.
An angel, in ragged attire!"

"And when your turn comes to join us.
In this beautiful spiritual land.
I'll be there with those waiting to greet you.
For the privilege of shaking your hand."


 

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