My friend was bowed, burdened by vain striving,
his eyes unlighted, focused beyond my gaze,
he breathed the word: succor
in all its forms and meanings.
I meant to offer understanding
and belief in better futures,
I thought to promise but I knew better,
I knew the will must be his own.
I lent my arm, his gaze returned,
we affirmed the lonely joy of striving.
I ratified his longings.
I stood by him as he sought to rise
and take a firming step.
photo credit: https://birafonseca.com/