he said: <br />'i went four years <br />without a lover, <br />trying to do the right thing... <br />then one day i stood up, <br />packed my few belongings, <br />and walked off... <br />in search of...' <br /> <br />i watched him as he rolled <br />a cigarette, his gnarled hands <br />sure and steady... <br />stared at the light in his eyes, <br />and the doors... <br />only he knew what <br />was behind them. <br /> <br />bought him a cup of coffee, <br />and shook his hand, <br />no need for words... <br />wondered if i'd met Jesus, <br />or the devil, <br />or if i was looking <br />into a mirror! <br /> <br />each path, each call, <br />is different... each heart, <br />pretty much the same. <br />i watched him light his cigarette, <br />and knew the smoke <br />to be a prayer!<br /><br />Eric Cockrell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/knew-the-smoke-to-be-a-prayer/
