I Am... (Namaste, Number Two)
i picked up the broken pieces
of glass when you threw her picture,
and closed your eyes
as you stared at the walls.
i walked with you to the mailbox,
day after day....
i am the letter
your daughter never wrote.
i helped you dig the hole
to bury that old dog,
and mouthed the words of the prayer
that no one heard.
i walked with you down the aisle,
the best day of your life.
i helped your shaking hands
sprinkle dirt on the casket,
forty years later.
i felt your excitement,
the first time you made love.
almost drunk with the gentleness,
and the closeness that takes.
when you were old and alone,
i picked up your Bible,
and read to you,
words you'd almost forgotten.
i am the drunkard,
the addict, and the whore.
i am the preacher,
the lawyer, and the businessman.
i am the boy, the girl,
the man and the woman.
i am your religion,
and something deeper and stronger.
i am the image you dreamed of yourself.
i am the body you walked in..
the hands you touched with!
i am you,
and need be nothing more,
and most of all...
nothing less!
namaste!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Added by Poetry Lover
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