This is a poem I wrote after attending a Sunday School lesson about Jesus healing the man who was blind.
Light.
So many types.Light and dark, bright and dull.
I have no words for these things.
Which color is blue?
So this is a sky.
Motion.
So many movements.People hurdling, hurdling, hurdling by.
Voices question, threaten, accuse.
I hear the anger, the fear, in the voices.
Now the feelings have faces.
A face stops.
A face I could not have seen,
A face I know.I know His voice, the man called Jesus.
The man they say feeds, heals, makes whole.
The man who mended me.
He calls himself the Christ.
I was blind.
Now I see.
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