Is that you?

I lie hidden and out of sight,
Cold and shivering through the night,
An academic, passes by,
Facts and figures from his mouth fly.
Then his footsteps fade far away,
I’m still stuck here another day.

A mum went by with child in tow,
Heading home before storm and snow.
‘Oh Dear me’, her sympathy cry,
Outside under this stormy sky?
Then her footsteps fade far away,
I’m still stuck here another day.

A bloke went by, spoke rather gruff,
‘I know how you feel out in this stuff.
Now I have a job, it’s all ok.
Hope you find a much better day’.
Then his footsteps fade far away,
I’m still stuck here another day.

Then one dressed in religious robe,
Bent low right to my left ear lobe,
Whispered a pray’r, why I don’t know,
Spoken soft, and terribly slow.
Then their footsteps fade far away,
I’m still stuck here another day.

Then I heard a croaky old voice,
Rusty wheel chair, transport of choice.
The old soul called, ‘Come with me,
A bath, bed, meal and cuppa tea’.
My footsteps faded far away,
I found compassion, what a day.

I’m stuck in a body of sin,
Hopelessly lost, no hope of Heav’n.
What if God just quoted the facts,
Or sympathised with all that I lack.
Or Jesus with empathy,
Understood life’s calamity.
Maybe a priest could simply pray,
Hoping that I might find God’s way.

But Jesus with true compassion,
Points to scars of Easter’s passion.
‘My blood flowed on Calvary’s mount,
Not for me; but on your account.
Just acknowledge me as your Lord,
Have faith in my unfailing word,
I can wash your sins white like snow,
Walking with you where e’r you go’.