I did not know Paul, but met him through all those who cared for him in New Carlisle. I had written a poem in 2006 when I worked at a local hospital in the psychiatric ward as a social worker and clinical counselor. I have since dedicated this poem to Paul Johnson and those who loved and cared for him. May it give you all some peace as I mourn your loss with you.
Insight
"Who sees the broken, torn and bent,
But cannot see the Light
From which they came -
To which they go -
Sustaining through the night?
Who knows the lost or frayed or spent
But does not know the course
They travel, as they seek,
Which draws them to their Source?
Who hears the cries and wails, the tears,
But doesn't sense the pain
Of struggle, as they're raised above
The mire in which they've lain?
I think, sometimes, too late we see
The Way these souls have trod;
Too late we know that we have looked
Into the Face of God."
- Mary-Louise Watkins-Scott, June 2006
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