THE CRY OF THE POOR

Patricia C. Montesano

The cry interrupts my sleep at night

  Its voice filled with injustice and fright

  Its language, mixed  Race, color and white

I have heard a cry from far away

  It’s coming closer day by day

  It also gets louder  What does it say?

The cry is one of many beliefs

  From every nation, the least in grief

  Innocent victims; the world, their thief

Calling my conscience: Cry of the Poor

  Crying louder than ever before

  Invading my silence ever more

It’s a cry asking for change in me

  In the way that I think, live, and see

To love and serve all humanity

Call of the gospel, poverty’s cry

  Misery pleading before my eyes

  Should I let this moment pass me by?

There’s urgency in the cry I hear

Affliction, oppression, in its tears

Its old, its young; all weeping in fear

The cry is echoing all around

How can I not respond to its sound?

Are these not the same poor Jesus found?

To the cry of the poor Jesus came

Becoming one in His Father’s name

Who am I, not to do the same?