The Little Church

He walked towards town, from the highway,
at the corner,  set his backpack down,
He searched up and down, Main Street,
but sadly, here’s what he found,
An empty lot, full of weeds and garbage,
a sign, welcoming people to town,
The place he’d sought help, so many times,
had just recently been, torn down,

He ambled across, Mulberry Street,
slowly entering into, the Police Station,
Normally he tried, to avoid that place,
but he needed some, information,
“Where, did that ‘little church’ go,
it once sat in the center, of town,
I use to go there, and they’d feed me,
it was the only, ‘soup kitchen’ around”,

A van pulled off,  highway thirty-three,
drove by where the church, had once been,
The driver got out, to ask a store owner,
” Excuse me, can you help me friend”,
“Where, did the ‘little church’ go,
the one down, on East Main Street,
I had five babies, and they helped me,
that congregation, was so sweet”

The ‘little church’, tho small and shabby,
was filled with, love and light,
It prayed, and covered this city,
with the wing’s, of angel’s in flight,
It was a place for, those who were weary,
and in need, of a helping hand,
We need a thousand,’little church’s',
to spring up, and cover our land.

Where did that ‘little church’ go?

  c.d.m. 5-17-1

I awoke from a dream,with this on my mind.