and the sons of god walked among us,
their hands dirtied with the work.
with eyes that saw the naked,
and ears that heard the cry.
speaking the languages of need,
without need for veil or crucifix.
unknown, unheralded, soft spoken,
taking little for they had no need...
other than the works of healing,
bathed in the light of forgiveness.
believing, caring, touching...
without title or even name....
perhaps they've walked beside you,
and you thought but the wind!
the sons of god dressed as humans,
wiping away the tears of the children!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem