(Rebellions, religions, or raindrops)

so much loving-kindness in a place

that is not a house of worship

as if the air is electrified,

enormous waves of empathy flow from

hands, eyes, and laughing smiles.


In the parking lot, a man tells me

it's a beautiful day and he's got

the best job in the world;

later, I realize he is a janitor.


Everything seems exaggerated, efficient;

outside, brightly colored chrysanthemums

and orange pumpkins, inside the remnants or

remains of the former mansion, juxtaposed

with modern furniture, polished with pride.


Ghoulish Halloween decorations contrast

the nurses and aides, walking and swaying

with the grace of a thousand reasons.

Some people, slumped in sunny spots,

covered in red blankets, sleep in wheelchairs.


Cheerful volunteers touch or talk gently;

over silences and screams, everywhere I see

the grace of a thousand untold stories,

despite religions, rebellions or lack of raindrops.


Thanks to etouffee and Jet-Poop for the title variation idea

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