You And Me

No great miracle, no stark disaster, no mortal angel's sweet embrace
Can command a child of Almighty God to refuse a strong taste
Of one more breath, of possibility's greatest chance.
Nothing can make you or I change or surrender our stance,
Even were our spirit pierced by needle, sword, or lance

Someone hurt you, reached out, touched you, when you'd lost each shield.
No weapon had you, from either left hand or right, to wield.
The hurt was unintended.  Your perceived foes merely ached
For your weakened hand to reach out.  They'd then take
It, lead you home, and reconciliation make.

Torn ligaments, muscles, tendons, heartstrings...
You lost the way to your dance floor, forgot how to sing,
Took your beat up muscle that you once called your heart,
And threw it far from you, hoping it never again would start.
But later steps remind you.  Broken hearts make great art.

How many have you aided?  How many aided you?
This far on your stormy journey, have you relearned what's true?
Have you seen God's hand working wonders in your life?
Stranger says, "Hello," when you wish to quit for strife.
Kindness can cut deeper than malice's jagged knife.

Should some soul in agony, pleading, cross your way,
Be the neighborly soul who saves him or her, today.
One who wants to be there, beyond all reach may be.
You who him or her, their struggle can see,
Can help them.  This is a writer's heartfelt plea.

Such deeds save you and me.

Adam Scott Campbell