I asked His mother
where is your Son?
She smiled at me and said..
Where He needs to be..
Donning my pilgrim garb
I sought Him everywhere
roaming the world
calling His name
I sought Him in the vast stone cathedrals
my dusty footprints marring their marbled perfection
Peeking in sleepy village churches
i found Him not
I told His mother
I seem to have lost your Son
He is gone somewhere beyond my hungry heart
She wept and said..
He is always near you
In the halls of the wise I sought Him
listening raptly to the sages expound
on their intimate knowledge of Him
poring long hours over dusty books
seeking the road back home
One dark night of bitter cold
walking wearily home
I found Him
In the face of the old blind beggar,
gazing from the forlorn face of a beaten child
He was there..
as His mother had told me all along....
Where He is needed
He turned and smiled lovingly
The wise and the great have no need of me
In love as they are with their own minds
The vast empty cathedrals are but a monument to human folly
my love not found in the sere dry pages of any book
I am always there in the hearts of the children
the broken and battered in body and soul
In the darkest corners in need of my Light
gathering my lost ones
to my Loving heart..
I have been waiting patiently for you
to open your blind eyes
I was here for you...