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Friday, April 3, 2015

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

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