The Old Hen
a short poem of love and faith
The Old Hen The old hen Looks me in the eye With expectation of stale bread or some other useful scrap And if not She turns away With disappointed confidence of food elsewhere Unaware that I too provided that I know that look In a child’s eyes When survival meets love and turns to faith
I love how the poem begins with something so simple and arrives somewhere deeper without ever forcing it. The hen’s look and a child’s look end up meeting in a place that has a great deal to do with trust.
nice