The Homeless Man

"religion isn't a belief, it's a way of life"

A homeless man sleeps on a park bench in the city
People stare in disgust as they walk past his bed
He just lays, no obligations, till the sun wakes him up
He grabs his pain soother when the morning air spreads

You think he would snatch a paper bag
Or a pill for his qualms
But this man reaches for his Bible
And opens it to psalms

He reads his favorite bible verse
Out loud, no matter who hears his story
“weeping may remain for a night,
but rejoicing comes in the morning”

While sitting there, a man walks by
His linen tie an obvious symbol of class
They make eye contact for a moment
“I don’t have any money for a worthless lazyass”

With a smile on his face
And a tear in his heart
He takes up his one belonging
And ignores the rude remark

You wonder what a homeless man does
Most sit and beg to empty ears
Not this man, he has set a goal
And heads off to the place he holds dear

His scruffy beard, and grease ridden hair
Make him the center of attention
But he walks with his head held up high
Only he knows of his own dimensions

He gets to his sanctuary of solitude
A homeless shelter for the needy
But he isn’t there to eat or drink
For him, that would be too greedy

He volunteers, gives his helping hand
For there are many more in worse health
He’s satisfied with the little pay he receives
His heart is already full of wealth

He works there all day
Leaves as happy as he came
For he knows he’s done his part
For him, the Lord would acclaim

At night, his troubles come in full bloom
He has no home to keep
So he wonders aimlessly around
Until he finally finds a place to sleep

No wife, no kids
No family, no friends
They all left him for dead
he’ll be alone till the end

"You must lose everything you love
To understand the value of life"
So he’s on his knees every night
Thanking the Lord, despite his strife

Outside a bunch of big business buildings
He finds an alleyway tonight
His eyes are full of tears
As he grips his Bible tight

A door opens beside him
The same man from the park emerges from the light
He looks at the homeless man, not knowing what to say
But now he realizes this man’s fight

Dumbfounded and helpless, he walked away
Staggered out of sight to his car
Thinking of that poor homeless man
Who sits wishing upon the stars

Burdened by his selfishness
That rich man is out for himself
He reeks of sin, and shamefulness
Not one person has he helped

He’s blinded, even though he sees
He’s not looking in the right place
He has less than the poor man
And all he has left is his faith

Overtaken by guilt, he turns his head
Goes back to try to ease the man’s cries
But that sweet, homeless man
Had already laid down to die

With a smile on his face
Looking up at the heavens
His Bible still open
On page 337

“the righteous cry out
the lord hears their prayers
and delivers them from troubles
and from all despair”

The rich man took the Bible
Read every verse on that page
Left motionless and stunned
With one thing left to say

When the sky takes you up
And you finally see His face
I’ll make sure I speak of your name
So all can learn from your grace

You ask how I know
Of these men that I speak of
That rich man was me
To the homeless man, I owe everything

“we walk by faith, not by sight”
2 corinthians 5:7