The stars were not to blame
Nor the ocean between us
Or even that dreadful place
We used to call home

It was only you and me
Always a little too wrong
And maybe just a little
Too late

a little spattering of rain
soft, gentle, sings to your soul

It might not be too late
to start a life I might
be proud of,
but the roots
are staying here
for now.

The soil has hardened.
In the forest of Mexican
sycamores and white oaks,
I find myself growing moldy.

The crows already know my name.
A ****** nests in my branches.
Their black wings
A choir of omens.

Broken and rebuilt,
I shade the weight
of every life
I’ve already lived.

If John the Baptist
were alive today
he would be wearing
second hand clothes
with holes in them .
He would be living
on the streets
with cardboard
for shelter

He would be
eating out of garbage cans
but he would never
need to beg

He would be
on every street corner
telling us we must
repent and to prepare
for one coming
that would be greater
than him

And no one
would be listening
to a homeless
man on the street

Please be kind
Have patience with others
They may not be like you

Please listen
Take time to understand

Please be careful
It’s a difficult time
Your actions may affect others

Please don’t harbor anger
It doesn’t help a situation
Step away if you have to

Please have an open heart
Instead of a closed mind

Please offer love instead of hate
It lifts us all up
Offer someone a smile

Please stand in the light
Instead of the darkness
Lift up the world
With your special light