Watcher I
I am a watcher I
Have a place to observe the sky
Watcher I see mighty hand
Lightly touch waiting land
Waiting they who have none
Squinting at equatorial sun
Then to sleep on the street
Where pain and despair meet
Watcher I their daily pain
Dirt pads where they have lain
Time was when I did not see
Those born to misery
Watcher I edging near
Close to see the smallest tear
Observing a divine plan
To make of ragged boy full man
Watcher I take delight
In finding new sight
Days spent not seeing
Are days with no true being
Watcher I see young men giving
Day after day of their living
Sacrificing heavenly seats
For those Made in the Streets
I wrote this poem in September 1996 when we were only serving young men sleeping on the streets, and 9 young Kenyan men were working together with Darlene and me. It is well to gain understanding, to see the lowest of the low, and to take part in the plan of Jesus to dramatically alter their lives and transform their hopes. Boys and girls who sleep on the streets of Nairobi have no reason to think that anyone loves them. It is delight to see them respond so happily to affection and care.
