Friday, March 01, 2019


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;
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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