Before we stoke the fires and spew
Our judgments tangled, sharp, untrue;
Let gentleness begin its reign,
To ease the depth of unseen pain.
Let’s trade our shoes and set aside
The comfort of our certain stride;
Press laces tight and take a chance
On empathy and circumstance.
He stumbles, silent through the crowd,
With secrets heavy, never loud.
What burdens does he bear today
That urge his gentle hope away?
She hides her worries, veiled in pride,
Her aching dreams she must confide;
If only we could glimpse her sight,
We’d understand her silent fight.
A stranger’s gaze, a timid hand,
A tale we do not understand –
Each wrinkle, scar, and weary frown
Conceals a path that’s worn and brown.
If, just for once, we shared their load,
And walked with them that distant road,
Would anger yield, would mercy bloom,
Would sympathy replace the gloom?
We’re woven from the self-same thread –
With hearts that break and hopes that bled;
No soul untouched by storm or strife,
We drift through sorrow, shine through life.
Let’s seek to listen, not to blame,
To find the spark behind the flame;
Compassion grows where judgment falls,
And kinship echoes through the halls.
For every step in borrowed skin
Reminds us where true grace begins.
We’re kindred travellers, lost and found,
With common hopes that circle round.
So pause before your verdict lands,
And open up your gentle hands;
In someone’s shoes, a mile anew –
You just might find a kinder you.
