When bills are high
and money is low,
you may lose your car, your home.
Now, a shelter is where
you lay your head.
Sleeping on an uncomfortable cot,
the body so tired, it’s hardly noticed.
Snoring of other women
fills the overcrowded room,
wishing for a moment of privacy.
Hoping to rise early enough
to be the first in line
for a warm shower.
Wearing donating clothing–
lost so much weight,
everything worn looks appealing.
Walking the unforgiving streets
in search of a solution.
You can’t see it.
You can’t touch it.
But surely, you can perceive it.
That quiet voice that speaks to you–
“Everything’s going to be alright.”
It is the substance of things hoped for,
the evidence of things not seen.