Monday, January 15, 2018

daydreamers

the little kids
      who wake up
      every morning hungry,
   while we attend
   another prayer breakfast
      where food will
      be thrown away;
the families
      who must sit in
      urgent care waiting
      for hours,
   while we can see
   our doctor the
   same day we call;
the person who
      lives out of
      a shopping cart,
   while we rush
   to the store to
   get items we don’t
   need (but there is
     2” of snow forecast!);
do they ever
wonder about folks
who talk so much
about dreams, but
   never act?
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman    

Sunday, January 14, 2018

rarefied

when angry tweets
   flutter around my head,
shameful words
   plug up my ears,
spiteful announcers
   drown out wise whispers,
how
will i ever
        hear
your call to offer
   goodness
      peace
   hope
      grace
to a time where
they have become so
   rare?

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

Saturday, January 13, 2018

snow day

for
the winter warriors
   plowing and scraping
   roads on 12-hour shifts;
the first responders
   taking risks to reach
   those who were foolish;
the carers
   spending time at
   the group homes
   and the shelters
      rather than with
      their families,
 
we pray, O Lord.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

Friday, January 12, 2018

while

while a dad
      rummages through seat
      cushions for change
   to use at the laundry,
i grumble
that the washer part
   will take 24 hours
   to arrive;
while a child
      remains on that
      growing list for
   experimental treatments,
i impatiently
look at my watch
   after only 15 minutes
   at the doctor office;
while a mother
huddles in a -5
      wind chill
   at the bus stop,
i lower the temp
of my heated car seat
   from hi to lo;
 
Lord,
in your mercy . . .     

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman    

   

Thursday, January 11, 2018

thursday

thursday, and

i can hear
the dripping of
      the rain, the
   tires splashing
   through the lot, and
even the cat
does not want
   to come out
   from under the
   covers, so
drag me out of bed,
hand me a cup of tea,
send me out the door
      to be the
warmth for someone
   who knows what
   real cold is;
light for the child
   afraid of the shadows;
hope for the fellow
   who sleeps on
   despair’s streets.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

Wednesday, January 10, 2018

sticks and stones

a time-out in the
      corner,
writing
   ‘i will not say
   &#%@ again,’
even some
      soap in the mouth,
but why,
   Wordsmith, weren’t
we warned away from the
      three-letter words
      which are so scary:
 
   now
   age
   yes
   ill
   but   
???

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

Tuesday, January 09, 2018

firsts

the stomach flip-flopping,
   trying to remember everything
   everyone was telling me,
the worries that i might
mess everything up –
   O Lord, do i remember 
   first days at jobs! so
as i move through
this day, remind me that
for the barista,
     the receptionist,
     the clerk,
     the technician
it just might be
their first day
   and give me
   the grace of
patience.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman