Standing here, faces pale,
Winter’s cold, summer’s warmth,
Gentle breeze, stormy rain,
Singing praise, spinning tales.
I knew a man, who spoke with heart,
He showed life’s pain, and searched hope’s gain,
He favored love, but laid no bridge,
For want to self, to please the rest.
He wore his shame, unfazed by blame,
He made no noise, just toiled in vain,
To please himself, he pleased them first,
To stop a fight, he closed his mind.
They found no wrong, within his veins,
He sort no pity, upon life’s kitty,
They frowned with haste, he turned with praise,
To cut him down, they wished him harm.
He asked no reward, when Grace came to town,
They fell down hard, when Grace swung her sword,
He tried to plead, when Grace lowered their knees,
For true was he, to they who mislead.
They found no fault, in him who begged,
They humbled their minds, to shower their love,
He asked no wage, just walked on tall,
They banished their fear, and welcomed him here.
Chasing tales, spinning webs,
Summer’s sun, flowers rise,
Winter’s wind, heading south,
Standing still, seeking hope.
By Julius Fa