compassion poems

The Power of Touch – A Poem by Richard Kalfus

Touching others has profound meaning.
It shows to others that you care
to share both another’s joy and sadness.

A teachers’ touch to a troubled child.

A father talking to a teenage son,
discovering love for the first time.

A homeless man with a sign, “Need money for food,”
welcomed both my five-dollar bill
and my compassionate touch on the shoulder.

An aging parent who no longer knows who you are,
But feels your love and understanding
through your embrace.

A call to a grieving friend at the loss of a child
receives your touch through a consoling voice.

Women no longer have the exclusive right
to touch both men and women.

Men today may touch a long-time friend
as a sign of an enduring bond.

Medical experts all agree:
medication in tandem with a compassionate touch
can often effectively heal both
the physical and the emotional.

Never forget that by touching,
you receive a gift to yourself.

A young man approached me
when getting gas.
I did not recognize the man,
but he knew me.
This once homeless man,
now well dressed…
shook my hand and said,

“You helped me turn my life around,”
Was it my money or my touch?

Baring Arms – A Poem by Rozann Kraus

Our bare arms are long
strong as our hearts
not as easily broken…
as they open embracing
comforting, grasping,
protecting
bearing witness to our loves
second to none
our losses
each wound stitches
healing ever fierce
our common core
our never gone humanity
our ever sacred power
to link hearts
in unity
banishing hatred and fear
as truly as
a new day
of justice and peace

Unnoticed, Comes Inside – A Poem by Neil Creighton

When grim old Mr. Sorrow
unsuspectingly comes to town,
his suitcase filled with pain and grief,
wearing his mournful, heavy frown,

rapping with his leaden stick
on the front door to come in,
then spilling all through house
his pain, sorrow and suffering,

there is no holding him back.
It is futile to bid him leave.
He must come in and the heart
must sorrow, lament or grieve.

Notice though how in thoughtless haste
he leaves the front door open wide
and Hope, Compassion and Empathy
silently and unnoticed come inside,

and sit in patience waiting
for old Sorrow to tire or depart,
so that they can begin to strengthen
the heavily laden, grieving heart,

and when Sorrow will not leave
they still remain quietly in the room,
growing the tender heart in the midst
of suffering’s pain and gloom

and though hearts can surely break
or darkly distort in bitterness,
from pain and loss the heart can develop
its sweet, empathic tenderness

and the heart that is too protected,
wrapped in too cloistered a cocoon,
is a heart denied the opportunity
for beautiful things to blossom and bloom.

Cactus | Nate Maye

Do not be
the cactus
with spiny
tongue
do not bring
pain to a world
of loneliness
and hurt,
instead smooth
aloe over
wounds of neighbors
send salve
to the strangers
you meet.

Advantage | Cattail Jester

Refusing to take advantage
of your plight, offering

a bit of healing for the harm
my step has caused

I pack a bag of food, big
deal, donate some clothing

Small goods and actions
in a brutally tilting world.

Why Are People So Mean? | Chrissie Sadie Haley

Why are people so mean?

She asks me after finding out
That not everything or
Everyone is safe and that
Some people will lash out
Even if you smile at them.

I take a deep breath and tell her
It’s because they are missing
Something deep inside,
That part of them that feels
Happiness, kindness, empathy,
And that we must keep kind
Thoughts in our hearts for them
Because someone didn’t when
They were growing up.

She thinks for a moment and
Says that she’s glad she can
Keep being nice even when
Others aren’t. My heart expands.

I think of everything I saw
Growing up in my family and
The promise I made to myself
That I would never lose the
Love I possessed inside and
Would always be the
Opposite of mean.

Starving | M Spear

Give them food
to fill them –
Give them wisdom
to grow them –
A drink of fine
water, bite of hope
to sustain them.

Put a Finger on It | Maggie Beck

I can’t put
my finger on what
I’m learning.
Just know I am.
There’s a way
to make the world
better.
Not like selfish
people who only
say they are working
to do better
while they sit
letting the world
suffer around them.

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