Wednesday, December 30, 2020

Pardon My Asking, Lord

 How did you feel when the leprous came,

calling “Unclean!” as the Hebrews required?
Were you repulsed by the old and the lame
reeking with filth and with excreta mired?

Lord, did you hesitate, waffle or pause
before touching the crusted and unseeing eyes?
Did the odor distract from your virtuous cause,
did the man disappear amid lice and the flies?

Probably not.  I guess perfected love
overlooks filth, can set foulness aside.
Love in its essence would tower above
bias, see vile folk beatified.

Perfect, I’m not. But you told me to be
and your life is my model, your spirit my goal.
Lord, hear my prayer. Give me grace, set me free
to bypass my hang-ups, to love every soul.

Let me shake any hand when a tender is made,
hold the patient with AIDS in a heartfelt embrace.
Inmates and homeless I’ll greet unafraid,
Passing to others the strength of your grace.

Image Copyright : Satjawat Boontanataweepol


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