Cardboard King

I want to help
but am I growing
in my helping.

I am thinking
of an old arrangement
of buildings
where I played bureaucrat.

Thinking of 15 years ago
me, the young want-to-be
pastor.
What happened to him?

I remember a man in
LA who arranged his
cardboard boxes into
rows to form a home.

He’s the one who inspires
my title this morning.

A man in Nashville
huddled, trying to sleep
in a glass box.

I’ve spent a year
collecting these stories,
linking them.

My constant hope still
is that redemption will
come, that redemption
is working.

The naked, limited, human
eye cannot always see
the way the heart and mind
are worked on.

Maybe one day we will
witness the measure of a
bag of food offered.

 

Tennessee, US

 

 

JD DeHartComment