That kindness
might be a work
of love
is a gentle breeze
to the withered soul.
Famished and thirsting,
wandering in the
desert of venomous words
and half-truths.
A digital wasteland
of posture and power.
Yes, our souls,
or something deep
and without a name
are cracked and withered.
In search of a
last meal.
But now
the surprise of
kindness
as a spoken word
to a blind man:
"This way."
As unfurling of color
and the flutter
of life:
"This way."
In its shyness
and offered nobility,
kindness speaks:
"This way.
To love
and life."