Heart like ice, eyes like fire.

Hands that offer love for hire.

In this house, there dwells a man.

Who heals the soul like no one can.

Words to inspire, a shoulder to cry on.

A thousand faces, he can try on.


Postures, phrasing, fine technique.

Calm the fearful, lift the weak.

They look to him for faith and care.

They bring their gifts, he meets them there.


The system works, and many find

new strength of soul, and peace of mind.

But when the day is spent and gone,

he climbs the stairs and sits alone.


And wonders how it all began

a gentle, unassuming man

Who makes his living, selling faith

who stands aside and hides his face


and never dares to show his pain

who never doubts, and feels no shame

And here he dwells, in sacred space

encased in stone, with smiling face.


And sometimes, in his room at night

his eyes behold a fearsome sight

to fix his gaze upon the fire

Of Ancient Master to inquire


His mind remembers words he spoke

they dance with faces in the smoke

And there he knows, with joy divine

That he is of a different kind


A race of beings on the Earth

a wondrous tribe, of noble birth

Who live their lives devoid of care

extending hands to lift despair


Who can't be seen, or known, or touched

who ponder little, offer much

He has no life apart from this

He feels no joy, he tastes no kiss


No sons to dance around his feet

No tender maid, his flesh to meet

But just to stay inside his room

Available for all who come.


And give to them the hope they crave

in fair exchange for alms they gave


It just makes sense, a noble quest

Among his kind, this man's the best

Receive the rubble of their lives

exchange the sorrow, wipe the eyes


These folks who wander here and there

In search of hope, with cupboards bare

And he alone can reach inside

remove the splinters, calm the tide


He's truly worth what people pay him

sweet relief from fear and mayhem

So do not judge the way he lives

the smile he wears, the gifts he gives


But understand that in this world

among the stones, there lives a pearl

Who stands alone and won't look back

who faces darkness, fear and lack


And wipes away the pains of life

And cuts the bonds of guilt and strife

Then walks away from those he helps

without a thought about himself


Heart like ice, eyes like fire

hands that offer "love for hire"

This, the lonely Shaman's call

living life behind a wall


No excuse for who he is

We can't deny the help he gives

But we can wonder, when he's gone

About this wondrous path he's on


Is it pride, or just a gift? 

That he would have no voice to lift

Of hopes and fears that were his own

to speak his pains, and make them known


To take from hands of love with friends

to feel and hurt like other men

Alas, it seems we'll never know

the spirit wind that round him blows


So we must simply be content

to just accept this noble gent

And place our judgment on the shelf

And keep him hid inside ourself.


 Daniel Jacob, 1993.


Copyright, 1993-2012.  All Rights Reserved.