What mortal am I when I do not
Come to my neighbor’s aid...
Seeing they have a need?
Shall I turn away? Have I no
Knowing my cupboards are full to
I watch as the streets are
blanketed with hunger and poverty
God, all knowing, has provided for
All that I have is His,
Yet my bosom is encased;
It is hardened; I feign pity.
Now it is I who walks the streets
My bowels grimace with pain.
I call out to my Lord, my God, in
For He has turned his ear from me.
My prayer need be a sweet refrain;
"My punishment is too grievous to
Take these shackles from my
"Open up my bowels of compassion;
To the esurient I judiciously will
The kindness and the great love of
Heavenly Father taught me
Compassion by submission and
I have walked in the shoes of the
I have crossed the by-ways of
I’ve sought shelter from the cold
And have cradled the thirsting
Yes God in His mercy restored my
house ten fold
He has forgiven my great sin.
Janice Bumbalough Marler ©