I heard the cries of my Beloved outside my door this morning,
Throwing open the door there She stood, a little girl dripping the blood of violence, suffering and pain.
She entered our home to be embraced, washed clean with love and tears.

I heard the cries of my Beloved outside my door this morning,
Throwing open the door there She stood, a young woman, starving, deprived, tortured, battered, bruised, with pleading eyes.
She entered our home to be fed, nurtured, listened to and looked upon with loving tenderness.

I heard the cries of my Beloved outside my door this morning,
Throwing open the door there She was, an old woman, crumpled, abandoned, homeless, covered with the filth of human neglect.
She entered our home to be drawn out, held close and warmed, her life re-kindled, her gifts of wisdom appreciated.

Listen, listen, please listen for the cries of our Beloved.
We’ve been deaf for far too long.

Kalidas


copyright 2006 Lawrence Edwards
All Rights Reserved