new

my ears are cold
my nose is runny
my feet are cramped
my eyes are dry and gritty
my back is gripped in a vise
my mouth has been nibbling on dust
my soul groans from a graceless night
my heart wants to stay under the covers

so, dear Lord,

give me a new heart

   which shelters those
   shivering in loneliness’ doorways;
give me a new soul
   which shares grace
   in every moment;
give me a new mouth
   which is not afraid
   to speak about hope;
give me a new spine
   which will stand up
   to mean-spirited bullies;
give me new eyes
   to see the gentleness
   in seeming grouches;
give me new feet
   to walk beside those
   on their last pilgrimage;
give me a new nose
   to breathe in the aromas
   of wonder and laughter;
give me new ears
   to hear the cries of the poor
   and the giggles of little children.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman