Sunday, September 17, 2006
Behold, the Lord.
The man in his bed of thirty-eight years,
The hypocrites, children, and mothers,
But will He see me?
I am but a man of small infirmities.
My sandals are worn,
My fingers the same.
I lack the courage to say
Here I am!
Wilt thou make me whole again?
And so I watch in the shadows*
Of the hypocrites who murmur
(This is the Sabbath!
Shall a man be made to break the law?
To carry his bed on such a holy day?)
And yearn for the voice
And the healing touch
Of the Man they call Savior
And King.
*Bonus Points for finding this man in the picture!
Behold, the MuseLabels: Religion, Svithe
