A poem written by John Armour Rucker of the IRIS Art Club.
Image by Orlando Craig
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The Hobo of Heaven
I saw him hop the heavenly freights
and ride those rails of the night,
in a boxcar full of mystery
and an engine full of light.
I saw him begging on street corners
pleading for his daily bread,
dressed in rags from head to foot
with a light around his head.
I saw him lying under a bridge
kicking the bottles to one side,
his prayers were not for himself
but for the world outside.
Then I saw him in the soup line
just one of the hungry crowd,
marching to the beat of a different drummer
who was humble and not proud
He is the hobo of heaven
who lives beyond your door,
who wanders this wide world
and is called the Mighty Lord
John Armour Rucker
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