I seek the voice of the most high
Sitting on the office rooftop swing
A quiet place
Away from the busy and crowded streets
With human generated noise
Distant from the foul air
A hiding place from all my fear and worries
I take a few breaths and listen
Hoping my next breath will create the voice I seek
But instead it creates something new to gaze at
A crippled boy’s story across the street
Lying in his stretched, thin, weak arms
Subjected to hunger, thirst and poverty
His appearance filled with anguish
Asking for charity
Receiving different forms of pity and disgust instead
My past is suddenly filled with guilt
For I once gave that crippled boy
My own version of pity and disgust
In pursuit of a
Fruitless job hunt
Pointless job
Future less relationship
Unnecessary conversation
And a meaningless friendship
Time to seek a new vision
Knowing what steps not to take
For the voice i sought after in a quiet place
I heard through the crippled boy’s story
PIECESBYRUTH 