Take Note

[132 words]

Lying at your side, perhaps,
Or living right next door,
Or working at the desk across
The company’s polished floor;

Seated next to you and riding
On the city bus,
Or walking in the city park
And making nary a fuss;

Hidden from view, a smarting hurt
Behind the checker’s smile,
Or a head in prayer, with anguished tears,
Across the Sunday aisle –

Go wherever you will, good saint,
And there you’ll surely find
The need for love, for faithful friends,
For a word that’s true and kind.

Near to you a needy soul
Awaits and, silent, cries;
Perhaps you only can console
By piercing their fragile guise.

The Lord took note of hurting folk,
The ones the crowd ignored;
When we, like Him, befriend the lost,
Ours is a rich reward.