For Once

(“I was eyes for the blind person. I was feet for the lame person.” Job 29:15)

You took the lives that were broken eggshells,
the eyes that had not slept in weeks,
and rocked them like a lullaby, and sang them
like a hymn.

You took the ears assaulted by spears and arrows,
and listened to the sparrows for them,
heard the promises of lovers and
danced for them to the tune of children’s laughter.

You took their feet, shrunken with time,
and walked the forest among the pines for them,
marched in the parade and plunged your toes in the mud
for them. You massaged the scales and the brittle nails
that displayed their age too soon.

You took their soul, fragile as a soap bubble in the wind,
and flew it like a kite for them,
despite the unpolite words of those
who do not understand how love can take
the saddest of them. You took their soul,
crumbling like desert clods,
and rained for them in tears that,
(let no one know) for once
were not their own.