I came across this (unnamed) poem on a blog I visited today, and it seems to say a lot...

No revolution will come in time

To alter this man's life

Except the one surprise

Of being loved.

He has no interest in Civil Rights

New marxisim

Psychiatry

Or any kind if sex.

He has only twelve more hours to live

So never mind about

A cure for smoking, cancer, leprosy,

Or osteo arthritis.

Over this dead loss to society

Pour your precious ointment,

Call the bluff

And laugh at the

Fat and clock faced gravity

Of our economy.

You wash the feet that

Will not walk tomorrow.

Come levity of love,

Show him, show me

In this last step of time

Eternity, leaping and capering.

Sydney Carter, dedicated to Mother Theresa, quoted in Sheila Cassidy Good Friday People,  p 53-4

 

To Carter it speaks of Mother Theresa, to Cassidy it speaks of the work of hospices.  To me, it just speaks...

To what purpose this waste?  Love God, and love your neighbour as you love yourself...