Touched

I can imagine a lot of things.

He was broken and in despair.

He was told he was beyond repair

Because he was a leper…and this was a king.

 

He had known the hopelessness of being shunned.

He knew that he was unclean;

He was not fit to be seen,

But this king healed…and this leper was stunned.

 

So he gathered himself up.

Braving the eyes of the crowd,

He came and he bowed,

And he hoped it would be enough.

 

Because, see, his faith had been set.

He needed no convincing;

He was ready for his rinsing

If only this One would permit.

 

So he stayed on the ground.

He did not question the ability;

He only asked if he was willing.

Everything was laid down.

 

And in those moments before the answer,

Face against the dirt,

He fought the fears of worth–

Because this was a king…and he was a leper.

 

Suddenly, there was a hand upon him,

And the power coursed his body

As it destroyed all leprosy–

The result of a deep compassion.

 

And the beauty is not that he was just clean.

It was the touch.

History had never seen such:

Purity pursuing the unclean.

 

Because, for the first time,

Purity touched impurity,

And the tables flipped to see

The unholy encounter the divine.

 

For before this moment,

The unclean blemished the right.

Fear bound men’s hearts tight,

And so the veil remained unrent.

 

But this was a power so great

That it kicked down the barriers of shame.

It did not try to cover or contain.

It cleansed a hopeless state.

 

And this man, no longer a leper,

Well, he couldn’t help but speak,

Because all that he could seek

Well, it was found there.

 

He knew he asked for much,

But his faith led him to something real:

Not just a love that would heal,

But a love that would touch.

 

Copyright © 2017 Maegan Elizabeth Pinyan

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