Love Afire

A beggar, gaunt, was known to us,
Though harshness claimed his life,
He endured despair and want,
Rejection, pain and strife.

Beaten down, he faltered... fell,
The flies there came to feast,
With stricken flesh he moaned aloud,
"See here, the least of least"

You and I, we sighed in pity,
And railed against his fate.
"How awful one should ever be,
In such a sorry state."

Then shrugged our shoulders in retreat,
And sadly walked away,
To beat our breast 'er helplessly,
As we our distance, stay.

But came there to this sodden man,
A heart of love afire,
So quietly this angel drawn,
By truest faith's desire.

She whispers softly in his ear,
With sweetness to refresh,
And gathers up this fallen soul,
This man of tortured flesh.

She noticed not his vile stench,
Nor saw a wretched face,
His crumpled form was drawn to her,
And held in warm embrace.

'Tis He, her spouse whom she now held,
T'was Jesus whom she'd found,
Her Love, her Life, her sweetest Lord,
Her loving arms surround.

Heaven bending down to man,
Need and glory meet,
He, a sign of all our loss,
Her, of grace complete.

And lo! the miracle begins!
As Mother tenders care,
A fire is lit within his soul,
Where once was but despair.

Through her heart of faithful love,
Grace opens Heaven's door,
Her softest kiss... he gently sighs,
Then of this world no more.

But did you see a smile grow,
Upon his dying face?
The herald of a joyous hope,
That death could not erase?

Oh cruel Death! You crushing foe!
Your conquest of my broth'r,
May well have been a bitter loss,
But for the love of Mother.

Lord grant that I might be as she
Who counseled no restraint,
In offering love's holy fire,
And thus... become a saint.

Attributed by Michael Thomas Grumbine

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