National Poetry Month

Poem for the day.

Precious Blood         

Today I walked in the ‘hood.

I was surprised to see God

sitting on the curb.

Beside Him was a large pool of blood.

I watched Him dip fine linen cloths

to soak up the blood.

He folded each stained cloth reverently.

I asked God: “What are you doing?”

“This is the blood of My son,” He replied.

“Oh no,” I said, “Yesterday I saw

an old black man stumbling from a bar.

He had a gunshot wound to his head.

This is his blood.”

“That’s right,” God told me.

“This is the blood of My son

and it is precious to Me.”

Jan Ross