The Gospel According to the Streetlight by Jeff Callaway

The Gospel According to the Streetlight

by

Texas Outlaw Poet

Jeff Callaway

I stomp the streets where the gutters moan,
Where shadows hide and the lost bemoan.
Neon flickers on broken glass,
The world a graveyard, my soul harassed.

Jesus walks quiet, beside my rage,
Through alleys sharp as a razor’s edge.
I curse the night, I curse the pain,
Blind to mercy in the pouring rain.

The rats scurry past, the sirens scream,
This city bleeds like a fractured dream.
I spit on faith, I spit on hope,
Life’s cruel ropes leave no way to cope.

He nudges my shoulder, I flinch away,
His whisper soft as the light of day.
“See the world,” He says, “all that you despise,
The truth is hidden in shadowed eyes.”

I stomp on bottles, broken and black,
Neon reflections flashing attack.
Boarded-up churches, crucifixes bent,
The Gospel lost in concrete and cement.

A candle flickers in a windowpane,
A beggar kneels, reciting His name.
I turn my head, dismiss the sight,
Too wrapped in rage to see the light.

He nudges again, His voice a knife,
Cutting through my cynical life.
“The lost, the broken, the small, the weak,
The Gospel whispers in what you seek.”

I pass a mother, fists in the night,
Shielding her child with trembling might.
I pass a dog with a paw torn raw,
Yet cannot see the mercy I saw.

The graffiti screams on alley walls,
A choir of sin as darkness calls.
I shake my head, pride clouds my mind,
Blind to the grace that’s by design.

He sighs beside me, patient, still,
A presence holy that bends my will.
Through alleys dark and puddles wide,
He walks beside me, my faithful guide.

A coin drops at a beggar’s feet,
A stranger smiles, simple, sweet.
I turn away, my eyes still blind,
Yet grace persists, love’s not confined.

He whispers again, soft but clear,
“I am here. I have always been near.”
The street lamp flickers, golden and bright,
I see at last His Gospel in the light.

The crucifix gleams on a shattered wall,
Candles flicker, shadows crawl.
The saints are present, the Church endures,
In acts of mercy, His love ensures.

I kneel on asphalt, hands open wide,
The city dark, but He’s by my side.
Confession whispers in every breath,
The Eucharist conquers sin and death.

The rats still scurry, the night still hums,
Yet I hear the song that Heaven drums.
The gutters glisten, the broken shine,
I see the Gospel in this grime.

The night is harsh, the streets are cold,
But Christ walks with me, faithful and bold.
I rise, I see, I know the fight,
The Gospel revealed by the streetlight.

The saints are laughing behind each wall,
The Church stands mighty, beyond the thrall.
He walks beside me through every tear,
The light of truth is piercing clear.

I see the beauty beneath the decay,
The mercy alive in the streets’ dismay.
The Gospel hidden in broken things,
In the shadows, His truth still sings.

The Mother of Sorrows, her gaze so wide,
Points me to Heaven where love won’t hide.
The Mass echoes faintly, incense climbs,
Through gutters and alleys, through space and time.

I walk no longer lost in the grime,
The city dark, yet I see the rhyme.
The Gospel is alive in the world around,
In the streetlight’s glow, in the holy ground.

I kneel once more, asphalt wet,
My heart open, my soul reset.
The Gospel is not in stages or walls,
But in the streets, the shadows, the city’s calls.

And now I know what I could not see,
Jesus has walked all this time with me.
The Gospel according to the streetlight’s glare,
Shows beauty, mercy, and God’s own care.

The night remains, yet fear retreats,
Christ is present in all I meet.
The Church triumphant, the saints above,
The world revealed in His endless love.

~A Catholic Poem

by Texas Outlaw Poet

Jeff Callaway