canticle 51

when you receive the latest
huff-and-puff from me,
be kind
and hit the delete button;

when i spend each moment
hanging out with the wrong crowd,
be patient
and send truth to be
my best friend;

when i wallow
in the muddy mess of me,
be gentle
as a washerwoman with
the unmentionables,
and let me dry in
peace's sweet breath;

when i hear the bell
on sin's seductive truck
coming down the street,
be quick
to turn up the boombox
playing the glad choruses
of your heart;

when you could
toss me out with
the rest of the junk,
be an old softie,
cradling me in your heart,
tenderly polishing me
with your scarred hands,
until i reflect
the hopeful gleam
in your eye.

(c) 2009 Thom M. Shuman