Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.

As I lie down on Toronto’s concrete,

the smell of green, buried farmland rises up;

at the public fountain where I bathe with pigeons

he freshens some fragments of my soul.


Along sidewalks thick with people he leads me.

Even though I push my found belongings through metaphors

of a different age, I still get the poetry:

his rod and his staff—things I’ve only seen as a kid on TV—

they strangely comfort me.


A meal is prepared for me by volunteers.

My head, oiled by unwashed hair,

overflows with ideas—

I got a lot of time to think.


Surely goodness and mercy follow me;

I just hope they catch up soon and more often.

Still, I’m sure I dwell in the house of the Lord,

because sometimes I manage to feel myself at home.



Greg Kennedy, SJ is assigned to the spiritual exercises ministry at the Ignatius Jesuit Centre in Guelph, Ontario.

  • Peter Bisson, SJ
    Posted at 10:31h, 22 November Reply

    Thank you Greg!

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