Please Read:
The Hounded Sinner

We heard you in the market,
your footsteps in the square,
and yet we did not mark it
as though all unaware.
Unto the seller’s table,
we went to get away;
I searched some ware’s label
hoping that you’d not stay.
And yet your shadow lingers,
waits o’re me even now.
So trembling are my fingers,
and sweat drips from my brow.
And then the word is spoken,
I hear you call my name,
but I am low and broken:
I cannot bear my shame.
I turn and clutch your sandals,
I hide my face in dust,
admit my grossest scandals
of greed, hatred, and lust.
Yet you lean down to touch me,
to lift my eyes to yours.
You let me know how such see:
Your light upon us pours.