The bench was old, dusty and stained
Time and weather had left their mark.
It may have been years since someone had rested on it,
Or even noticed it in the park.
I dusted it off and took a seat
And I gave my feet a break
And as I sat there in the shade
I reflected on our choices and the paths we always take.
How many people escape our notice,
How many do we pass on our way?
And like a bench that’s worn and weathered
We don’t give them the time of day.
I vowed to be more aware,
And to open my eyes and see,
For even those who seem worn and weathered
Have a blessing they can offer me.
So I’ll take a different path
As I go on my walk today.
And I’ll try to notice those benches
The ones hidden and tucked out of the way.