#stooping
The hair on the back of my hand
glistens in the lamp at night
it tells me I am a man
I am a creature
a thing created.
I did not create myself
even though I act as if I did.
You made this body
and you keep it alive.
When I look at my hand
sometimes it reminds me of Jesus
who was also a man.
I yearn to feel his touch
his arms around my shoulders.
How often I need his hand
on the small of my back
giving me a gentle shove.
When I picture that hand
in my mind’s eye
I see the hair
the veins that bring the blood
from his heart,
a heart so full
so big it reaches to heaven.
It also reaches into my heart
when I think of his first noticing
and then stooping down
to touch the person on the side of the road
the person nobody else would go near.
I am touched to tears.
That was the hand of Jesus
reaching down as it does now
to this sinner.
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 9:56 AM UTC
Stooping down for slippers,
That's when I felt the snap,
Pain was shooting up,
The pain was in my back,
Taking it so carefully,
I tried to stand up straight,
The way that I was doing it,
Was one god **** mistake,
Now double bent on my knees,
Thinking what to do,
Bladder at the fullest,
And bursting for the loo.
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 10:42 AM UTC