Two Poems (from the Collection - Pictures of the Messiah)
The Edge of His Cloak (Matthew 9.18-26; Mark 5.21-43; Luke 8.40-56) Blood flows and weakness ensues. The strength to face my days lessens. There is little compassion for the sick if hemorrhaging scars the ailment. This flow makes my flesh unclean and all who touch me are impure for the allotted days. As I near the moving crowd those who know of my condition move away, afraid that I might brush against them and stain them. I have heard rumors about You. You are my final hope. My offerings have gone unanswered. My prayers have been unheard. I struggle to reach You, using all my strength to close the distance. I want to simply touch the hem of your garment. I know You can make me well. “Who touched me?” Your voice frightens and sooths. I have overstepped my boundaries. I am a woman plagued with a menstrua l curse and You are a man. I have defiled You. Please Lord forgive me, for being so bold as to reach...