Somebody’s Son

I happened to be mowing my grass one hot sunny day.
I saw a little boy come walking up my way.
His knees were skinned, his shirt faded and worn.
His little denim shorts were dirty, frayed and torn.
He stopped to watch as I walked in a steady pace.
I could see him watching me as I looked into his face.
He leaned next to a tree and then proceeded to sit down.
I wondered where he came from and perhaps what part of town.
My wife brought me a fresh glass of cold lemonade she’d made.
But I couldn’t drink it for looking at the child just sitting in the shade.
So I stopped the mower and walked closer to the blonde- haired lad.
“Hi there sonny and just where is your Dad?”
He looked up with a thirsty look upon his dirty face.
Then I reached out my cold glass of lemonade but not for him to taste.
“Here you go my son, this cold one is on me!”
I’m not your son, the little boy said quite abruptly.
I don’t have a Daddy anymore at least that’s what my Mama said.
I suppose he lives somewhere or else he’s probably dead.
I’m sorry to hear that I replied as I watched him drinking up the brew.
I’m really sorry because somebody would love to have a son like you.
He hung his head , his eyes lowered as he wrote in the dirt.
I could tell from his actions the little lad’s feelings had been hurt.
Well I tell you what, I said with a gentle smile.
You can come and visit with me and my wife and spend a while.
You can come here to my house and you can be my son.
He looked up at me with a smile as big as could be.
“I’d like that Mister!” he said quite bashfully.
You run along now and come back real soon.
Maybe we can play some softball tomorrow afternoon.
He stood and I watched him slowly walk away.
That’s somebody’s son I thought in absolute dismay.
I wonder where his Dad is and why he left him so.
Then my eyes squinted from the awesome sudden glow.
“Yes He was Somebody’s Son”, I heard a thundrous voice say.
“He was my Son that was crucified on that hill so faraway.
And He’s coming back real soon I hope you know!
He’s coming for my children and I pray you will be ready to go!”
I couldn’t quite conceive this sudden apparition not to mention the voice.
But I’ll be ready , on that you can depend and all the angels in heaven will rejoice.
And it is all because Somebody’s Son visited me that hot sunny day.
So I pray you too will listen to the Father who gave His Son to pay your way!

Written by Sybil Shearin (c) 9-1-2002

This entry was posted on 270540H Jan 2011 and is filed under Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.

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