Today I just finished reading a really, really good book..."This Beautiful Mess" by Rick McKinley. I can't begin to mention all the parts of the book that struck a deep chord in me, but the following poem did...
a fragment of the poem
advent
Last summer,
Robert looked at me,
asked how I
in my private college,
white-skin,
rich-family,
suburban-cushioned life
could possibly understand
what it was like
to lose everything,
to have people walk by
pretending to read
The Wall Street Journal,
to be so drugged up,
cast out,
written off,
the gum people pull off their shoes -
how could I know
what it was to need,
to breathe, Jesus
with my last breath?
Maybe I am weaker.
Maybe it takes less to get my attention.
May this isn't a contest I want to win.
Silenced, I pulled myself off
the bottom of his shoe,
walked back into my life
of air-conditioned cars
and ten pairs of shoes,
not understanding anything.
- Kristin Mulhern Noblin
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