Thirsty

Following, following 'cross the wasteland

A steward who steadies with wit and staff,

Pilgrims set lonely course, buried in sand,

Hoping their no-name horse will find true path.

Marking the course with blood so red, they ford

Streams running wild, oh running wild with greed.

Such hopeful souls the dreaming pulls forward

To loving words, a face serene indeed.

Thirsty they are and, silent, they behold

St. Nick in this desert guarding a stream;

Peace and victory pouring from source untold.

Truth visible only for those who dream.

Her voice soothes the bile riled by false faces;

Stream fouled by fairness still bears Her traces.

Barbara Butler McCoy

[[Image - composite of the author's photos; slogan found painted on

the wall of an outbuilding of the Spruill Gallery, Dunwoody, GA, 2009;

Our Lady of Guadalupe, paint on tile, shrine on grounds of St. Jude

the Apostle Catholic Church, Atlanta, GA, 2009; wall, 2008; thanks to

Sean for his Photoshop tutelage!]]