The Smokeroom Sanctuary

So, I spend a lot of time in the smokeroom at the Abbie Hunt Bryce Home, a shelter for the homeless community who are in their last days. I have fallen love with a resident there who is being devoured by AIDS, and she has become a close companion to me. One of her favorite ways to pass time when we aren't parading the town, is to chain smoke, and so that's how we hang out when I am at the Abbie. And so as I have been thinking over this activity, I wrote something I would like to share with you all...
In a smokeroom filled with dirty air, she sits and smokes in her wicker chair.
I sit and watch her life unfold, and ponder my own story, a story untold.
For it is here that I have found an image of me, for down the same path we shared a journey.
I look and I behold a beauty unveiling, a fearfully and wonderfully made soul revealing.
And, though outwardly she quickly wastes away, she still reflects the Son's brilliant Rays.
Created in His image, in the image of God; A child of His He has not forgot.
In this smokeroom the world has seemingly forgot; It is here that I have found the reflection of God.
And amidst the green walls and fluroscent light, I have found the brilliance...the brilliance of Christ.