The Path

I want to walk on the path tramped out
by those faithful poor who found beneath
the clamor of their faults the voice of the
one true soul whisperer who knew them
when they looked up from the last of many falls
and no one else could tell the mud from the
bloody tears but He fell down too and saw
the clear spring waters inside them come
welling out as He poured and poured and poured
with a cup called mercy from the never-drying
fountain of His dying living leveling lifting Love.

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