Eyes of Christ

He thought he wanted to be a man of God, and dreamed of becoming a priest
And in temptations of New York he had no interest in the least.
Poor boy, grew up without a father, his mother always at work.
He learned only way too early who brought him about - ain’t no stork.
Parish school, like a prison - but something in it for him,
Not much love but at least not the street, timid kid, well, you get the theme.
No girls, boys are all jerks, teachers mostly as cold as ice,
Best friend is the janitor - kind man with the eyes of Christ.
Unkempt beard, shaggy clothes, not all there for sure,
Annoying to all, many names called, but to this struggling kid’s soul - a cure.
Always there to lend a hand, wipe a tear, say a kind word of support,
Tell me that our Savior wasn’t in that same way a good sport!
Eyes just like in the painting, that hung by the chapel doors
Looking straight into his soul with such warm and caring force….
That gaze, that gaze,
Hardly ever uttered a phrase
That gaze, those eyes…
Reaching deep into his soul - just like Christ
Then after school - with honors - all as supposed to be:
Grades are on par, more devout by far… welcome to seminary!
A few indiscretions here and there, nothing too big to count:
How is the Sermon in the Valley different from the Sermon on the Mount?
Lesson of the day - the meek and the poor shall inherit the Earth.
“Tell me if this idea is wrong?” - “no Professor! To my heart it’s so close!”
But once as he was walking late at night from the library to his dorm,
He passed by an old homeless man, laying dirty and so forlorn.
Hiding his head in a cardboard box, dressed in some dirty rags,
Smell of whiskey and nicotine, arms in bruises from shots of drugs,
Extending the dirty palm of his hand to passersby on the street,
Reclining on his elbow on the filthy and cold concrete…
And he ran from this man like scared boy
But was suddenly gripped with disgust
It’s one thing to dream of greatness - another -
when they smash your face into vice
He ran so far that hardly knew where he came from and why,
Tears in his eyes, halfway in his throat is an anguished cry,
He knew deep inside that he failed the test,
And then, in a flash he remembered that gaze…
That gaze, that gaze,
Hardly ever uttered a phrase
That gaze, that gaze, those eyes…
Reaching deep into his soul…
AF - 2021-07-21