Where I'm Coming From

Where I'm coming from

Is not so far away.

I have not descended

from the gates of heaven,

I am not arriving from

Rich halls and great feasts

To impart my grace

on the lowly masses.

Where I'm coming from

Is the little neighborhood

With the bumpy streets

Just down the street from you.

I would answer the door

If you knocked, ask you

To come inside, have something

To eat.

Then we could converse

And I would tell you everything

And I would tell you how I feel

I would tell you about

The miracles I've seen

In all of my travels

And from my front porch.

I would tell you about

The wisdom I see in your heart

And how you fill mine with hope-

But you don't knock,

So I just write it down.