Why do they just stare at me?
They brought me here to declare
Their own self-righteousness
Humiliated, half dressed and expecting
Violence I lay in the dirt, yet there is
A silence penetrating, no permeating
All around me, as if everything is
In slow motion, he doesn't answer
Their question, but asks another
And just sits, writing in the dirt
He sees beyond, into the very recesses
Of a heart, he does not condemn
Which is so unusual because he is
A teacher, one by one, they retreat
Gone, dropping stones, silent in
The face of the encounter and I am
Alone with one who does not condemn
I am free, freed by gracious words,
Freed to be different, freed to be alive
Fully and I will never go back