clasp my open hand

Painting by Lorraine Rigby. 2017

He stood outside, his breath was fast and angry,

the people laughed and drank inside.

A hand reached out, palm facing the heavens,

reaching for food and love.

The old widow forced to give her final pennies,

She entered with tears in her eyes......

He gripped his weapon, favoured by all employers.

He whispered his mantra....

"My house shall be called a house of prayer for all nations, but you have made it a robber’s' den"

He stepped into the shrine of greed and gold,

the place was a sanctuary for all, but it was soiled by corrupt ambition.

He spoke clearly.

"My house shall be called a house of prayer for all nations, but you have made it a robber’s' den".

They turned.... "Who is this madman?"

Who is this that would disrupt the status quo,

he flung the tables in the air and beat those who did not care,

and he shouted,

"My house shall be called a house of prayer for all nations, but you have made it a robber’s' den"

the hero for the marginalized is within our being,

clasp my open hand, my friend!