My Spear In His Side

It is in silence

I hear the trickle down

into the open wounds,

those cracks which receive

the pure water of healing.

Truth, and its assumed

sharp edges, didn’t sever me,

but guided me back to where

the water runs and the blood flows.

Both have their purifying effects.


Sometimes breathing through my mouth

lacerates two lips burned by hot coals.

There are words in the wounds,

scar tissue syllables

waiting to be set free.


Prayer: Lord, may the water of your word and the blood from your side be our stay today. Amen.

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