The King and the Deaf Mute

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The King sent His servant – a deaf mute
he panhandled scripture in mime
Quick verses he signed as commuters steered ‘round him
as though he’d committed a crime

Some passers looked through him in disdain
an offense they cared not to see
Lace hankies pressed hard to their slight turned-up noses
so proud they were not such as he

The tempi of coins in his tin can
swirled ‘round like a panning for gold
It wasn’t for money he begged, but attention
to arrest a few weathered souls

As these searched their pockets for loose change
he searched in their eyes for a sign
That maybe this day they would see a great mystery
with their hearts and not with their minds

Beneath the dark secrets they’d buried
beyond the sad sorrows they’d born
His gestures bore wisdom from far beyond reason
to comfort, to heal and transform

From my book, Living Loom

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