The Fruit of Labor – Revised

We labor on hands and knees in detached spaces
Washing the feet of people with uncaring faces,
And then come to wonder if there’s some hidden oasis–
Some highfalutin professional places–
That elude our solitary bases,
But no,
We are where God has placed us–
Where His grace is
Carrying our crosses
In a servant-minded-basis
Like His Son Jesus
Who died in our deserving places.

Posted in Perspective, Poem for Your Day, Poetry

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