Street corner serenade
As cars drive by
And people move
Coming to and fro
Nobody listening
To the sidewalk poet

King of the concrete
Pawn shop guitar
Asking the world
To love one another
He sings in vain
To the midday traffic

A heart full of pain
Fire in his hands
Seeking the lamb
The one in ninety-nine
He waits with God
In His open-air church

He works in the field
From morning to night
Plowing concrete
Planting the seed of love
Sunshine or rain
He’s a sidewalk prophet

Lord, bless the hands
Of the street corner priest
Living belief
Working without a net
Giving it all
To sing the Good News

© 2009 Tim D. Coulter Sr.