The man searched in vain through the years for love and happiness to find
In his wrinkled hands he held the secret for love and peace of mind.
Bridling a long forked tongue of venomous gossip and lies,
Sinner or saint, who was he to rightfully judge or criticize?
Until he walked in that man's shoes, his cross to bear he never knew.
He felt sad for a lad so poor at school on each foot wore no shoe
Until he saw a man with no feet who needed no shoes to wear.
His cup of happiness overflowed helping others burdens bear.
Always counting his blessings and saying, "I thank You, Lord, today."
A shining light in the darkness for a blind man guiding his way,
Who could see neither the sunrise, sunset, nor seasons come and go
Only to know it was winter when he felt the cold north wind blow.
In Spring, he could hear the song of the bird calling his mate to be.
Then the feathered nest with the miracle of life never to see.
No pity for himself, he was always whistling a merry tune.
But seasons took their toll on his body like a bent twig too soon.
The icy frost with its cold breath of death entombed with bitter tears.
Never again would he bear the blind man's whistling tune through the years.
His search now ended, for he had found love and peace of mind when old.
Head bowed, with wrinkled hands clasped in prayer were worth their weight