Poetry

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When your eyes violence,
do you see criminals,
or they who need repentance,

When with foul mouth they open to you,
do you see an offense,
or one in need of purity so true?

A drunk, staggering to keep his feet
do you see one with a vile stench,
Or a lost soul with Jesus to meet?

With handcuffed wrists he was led away today.
do you see good riddance,
or one who needs to find the way?

Which is it?
One to avoid, or one to teach?
One to detest, or one to love?
One to push away, or one to lead?

Will I clench my sight?
Will I turn away?
Will I see what is right?

Open eyes.
His sight.
True reality.

As I look out over my neighborhood,
As I look across from my desk,
As I look, have I understood?

Looking down the street,
looking down the hall,
Who do I meet?
Across from my desk,
In the line,
Even at rest.

What do I see?
People, people, people.
Some good,
Some evil,
Some kind,
Some thoughtless.
Some violent,
Some benevolent.

What do I see?
Are they just people?
Or are they sheep without a shepherd?

His eyes,
Or my eyes?

(Visit my web site at www.epreacher.org)

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