I had a conversation once, with this man who was in recovery for crack addiction. He was a mess, but so beautiful because he was speaking from the inside. He was open to me as a person, and took the time and effort to listen to what I was saying. He even took the extra step to offer encouraging words. I was really touched by this experience. It humbled me. It made me realize how much we (I) can take people for granted. People don't have to be neat and tidy to offer gems. Anyway, I wrote this poem about him. Cate.
Humbled by a Crack Head (A Poem by Cathy Gruman)
I learned about love from a crack head today.
I was blue and he was sober, his three hundred and eighty-sixth day.
In the parking lot we were talking.
I was troubled and he was thankful.
His life was turning around.
Dreadlocks and a missing tooth,
and he was smiling.
I told him my woes,
and he listened.
He used his history
to reveal a mystery
that his brokenness
is what put him together.
His history didn't fit today's story.
It made no sense to me.
Then I realized
as I looked into his eyes,
behind his face was saving grace.
The part that broke him
was no longer his disgrace.
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