when
words
of anger
drum
their fingers
on
our hearts, just
waiting
to reach out
and
slap another,
may
we hear the rhythm
of
your whispers of grace
and
reach out to caress
tear-stained
cheeks;
when
words
of judgment
tap
their feet,
just
longing to be released
to
run through
the
yards of someone’s heart,
may
we slip into shoes
welted
from your words of justice
to
walk with the vulnerable.
©
2019 Thom M. Shuman
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