Monday, March 8, 2010

I am She

And a great crowd followed him and thronged about him. And there was a woman who had had a discharge of blood for twelve years, and who had suffered much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had, and was no better but rather grew worse. She had heard the reports about Jesus and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his garment. For she said, “If I touch even his garments, I will be made well.” And immediately the flow of blood dried up, and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. And Jesus, perceiving in himself that power had gone out from him, immediately turned about in the crowd and said, “Who touched my garments?” And his disciples said to him, “You see the crowd pressing around you, and yet you say, ‘Who touched me?’” And he looked around to see who had done it. But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling and fell down before him and told him the whole truth. And he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.” Mark 5:24-34

I Am She

I am she waiting in the crowd
a calendar of doctor's visits
hands empty from the cost
surrounded by pain and failure.

I am she who fearlessly reaches
hands soiled from falling, knees scraped
eyes focused, and crying out
help me.

I am she with a conversation inside
a plan of attack and a magical hope
if I but touch his garment crawling
to the light they will take me
seriously they will understand my pain
he will make me whole.

Others have laughed at a silly women
spent and still bleeding a fool
unwilling to go away unwilling
to fade into the background.

I am she, your mother, your wife
your friend, your neighbor, she
who is not willing to stop
not able to give up until
God intervenes.

I am she with aches and tears
streaming down my brown dusty face
and you are he who reached out
a hand, a word, to a woman scorned.

I am she who sat in the road
the load lifting the light breaking
my heart, open, my voice stuck
I squeak out forgive me and
tremble with golden relief.

I am she who knows pain
and miracle who stretches out my hand
for a touch, a garment, a word
needing only, to be called,
Daughter, your faith has made you well;
go in peace, and be healed of your disease.

1 comment:

suzanne said...

Very powerful, and impowering.
thanks you for this post.