I care about that man,
His hopes, his dreams, his plans.
I care about his need,
For he and I are kin.
His heart’s desire may be unknown,
But it is my concern
And I must try to help him if I can.
At first he may mot want my help,
Claiming his way his own;
But what he does not know
Is that I really care.
How can I tell him my concern?
How can I show him of my love?
MY longing just to sacrifice for him,
To see his highest dreams come true.
To see his pain relieved, his burden eased.
So many friends hold broken dreams
Within their hearts.
They carry burdens, pains, and worries
All their own,
And wonder if there’s anyone who cares.
The fears and failures, sins and follies all,
They sting and burn within the heart;
They seem to place all victory out of reach.
Our failures are so cruel!
But then, what is concern?
What does it mean to love?
To take upon oneself another’s inner need?
To give and give again.
Let me not claim to love—
To really care,
Then turn aside to selfish ways
And live a hypocrite
Divorced from love I claim to be my own.
(August 1967)