THE COMPASSIONATE ONE
The sun was weak and the cold strong
He had his first meal in three days
And now sat on the riverbank
He had just come to think.
The old military coat
Now thin and frayed
Did little to allay the cold
And the river called him - Come.
Sitting on a park bench
That morning
An old man sat beside him
His hands shook and trembled
‘Parkinson’s’ he said
‘As a young man’, he continued
His voice wavering
‘I lived in India
And know what suffering is
As do homeless people here’.
Now alone on the shore
With only memories
Where he came to think
And the river called him - Come.
‘I know where we can get food
Why not come with me?
It’s nearly mid-day.’
They went to the Charity Kitchen
Where it was warm and so too was the food.
He came to the riverbank to think
The peel of the church bell
The confetti, a bouquet rising high above them
A new beginning...
And the river called - Come
At lunch, Jacob talked about the Love
That everyone shared
And how it was not lost
In despair and sorrow
They parted and Jacob gave him a one-pound note
He had gone to the river-bank to think
Of needles and institutions
Of deep hopelessness - a marriage ended
Of nothingness
The river of tears glistened on his cheeks
And the river called - Come
3.30 in the afternoon
Already the daylight was fading
He pulled the old coat
Tightly around him
Still, the cold air pierced his body deeply
He came to the river to think
Of years of wandering the streets,
Broken bottles - rotting garbage
Sleeping bodies beside a dumpster
Ever-increasing loneliness
And the river called - Come
Evening traffic rolls across
The old bridge
Groaning and complaining
They are all going home
To a warm house
They are bored and frightened
No different from him
A moment of love and compassion
When Jacob passed through his life
This morning
No judgement - no promises
Only love and compassion
Now the air is cold
And the early night frost
Is settling
On the grass around him.
He gazed into the dark sky
The evening star shone brightly
And he knew that was home
He had come to the river to think
And the river called Come - Come
A one-pound note clasped
In his hand
And the river called him Come -Come…!
Who pays the ferryman?