Rolling Stone

I heard a knock, it was still dawn
The sun was just rising on the horizon
I staggered across, feeling cross;

An old man was at the door
Knotted hair, a knitted bag
A shabby dress, sparkling grey eyes;

He stood there his finger pointed
To the unkempt yard
“I can work a miracle”; I heard him say as I nodded;

The day passed, at eve we met
I stood still quite amazed
As he turned away, glad with the days work;

I heard his footsteps fade, his footprints never did
He had to be directed form above
But in earthly disguise, I saw just another rolling stone.


I wrote this poem about seven years ago, inspired by an old man who like the poem narrates turned up at our home one morning and worked for a day’s wage. I was cross to be woken by this rustic but he was a blessing I almost missed simply because the blessing came packaged in an ‘unattractive earthly disguise’. It made me wonder if I have missed many such blessings simply because I did not find the packaging attractive.

Dear Mister God, this is @ina talking . . . Keeping my eyes peeled open…I would rather not miss anymore! : )