Babe’s Skin

All I could do

When others departed

Stop and consider

What just had been done

Look at my skin

Once ravaged and pitted

Look at my fingers

(I’d lost more than one)

“Leper” they called me

And fled from my presence

“Leper” the stigma

Of sad weeping shell

Lonely the life

Deemed God’s hot displeasure

Friendless and homeless

My own private hell

Jesus had seen us

All ten in our sad plight

Sent to the priests

To declare all things healed

Cleansed just like babes

From a dreadful contagion

Nine still in darkness

To one Grace revealed

How could I not thank

The calm Galilean

Sharing a kindness

That opened my soul

Joyful in transport

I cling to His next words:

“Happy for you friend

Now every whit whole.”

Doug Blair, Waterloo, Ontario

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