June 8, 2004

 

Perhaps…

 

"Perhaps, if I could but touch His robe, I would be healed!"

the phrase wearing a track within my mind

like a broken LP stuck on the same repetitive thought

"Perhaps…"

"Maybe if…"

"What about…"

 

endlessly working a path around the incessant silence

hopefully trying all the tricks that have worked for others

with no more result than a broken heart and increasing pain

 

"My God!"

"My God!"

"Why have you…"

 

but you have not forsaken me, it is I who has abandoned You

I know it is Your love that holds all that I have, safe

I have no doubt that my life is held secure within Your hand

 

"But God,"

"I hurt!"

"Where is Your touch?"

 

"Perhaps, if I could but touch His robe, I would be healed!"

endlessly, hopefully, searching for His robe

that I could reach out, touch it and be made new

 

Notes on this poem