On Sydney's Streets

I was walking down the street tonight
And stopped a man who appeared to be
Wandering in the maze of City life
And who knew no way to change the existence
He'd been in for so many years.

I felt of the loneliness of this friend of mine
And desired to free him from his world of chains.

His chains were wrapped around him as tight as
Steel fetters but were only the things
He'd never wanted to be or do when he
Made plans for his dream.

So here he was after a long day working
To have left the pub early to get home
To his empty room.

With no wife or
Children to lend a hand and no happiness
To enjoy or any idea that it was what he was looking for.

He did say he believed in God but didn't
Know why or what He was.

I stood so close to him on that cold
City street and could barely hear his groanings
For a better way or help.
Cars and lights
And people and noise were making our
Meeting so personal and private
Because all we knew was that he was there
And I was talking to him; seeing the product
Of the world's best man.

Of a truth I cried out to him but he couldn't understand.

So plain to me now is the truth that is, and I
Wondered if he was touched or moved or if he had heard a single
Word I said.

If he is so typical of modern day man
Even more precious is this Seed we have and Our Father's
Plan.

Scott L. Vanatter, 8 May 1975 (Poem written while serving in the mission office, and frequently spending downtown many evenings chatting with people on Sydney's streets.)