A servant's heart
doesn't beat his chest,
hand towel and soapy water
bringing light to the eyes
of the weary,
bended knee pouring grace
over the feet of the wounded
and war torn.

Mopping up the sweat of the world,
every janitor on the planet
knows something of that.
Nobody looking when you change
the water to water
and keep wiping tears.

Picking up after the children of God.
It's child's play. Tag.
You're it. No
tag's back.
Will SchmitComment