Wandering Jew

Like a Will O' the Wisp he drifts through the nights

Arbitrarily wafting through darkness to light

Barely an impression is made upon those whom he meets

Merely the observer in the back row seats

Still, his eyes do see, his ears do hear

Unobtrusively studying his neighbors year after year

He glories at their triumphs, grieves at their travails

They don't know his name or calling, though they walk the same trails

Here he stops to help an elderly woman bring groceries to her door

There he stops to assist the loader with packages by the store

Purchases a fast food dinner, money earned digging a ditch

Watches as the Little Leaguers toss season's first pitch

Hair on his shoulders, sandals on his feet

Philosophy only to help those he should meet

Not a single soul didst ever he harm

Yet many upon sight of him react with alarm

Alone, not lonely, wandering city to town

Helping where able, leaving when run down

Some vilify him as a hobo, transient, homeless

Call him useless trash and curse his aloneness

Those he gifts with a wistful smile as quietly he walks away

Looking for another he can help this day

If you see a bedraggled man walking down the street

Instead of ire, perhaps with compassion you can greet

We don't know the story, we don't know the pain

But benefit of doubt given can ease all our strain

Like this wandering Jew, he may have many burdens to bear

Weight of a world with others to share