A prayer, answered

After Acts 3:1-10

Each day I’m carried

to the beautiful gate,

there to ask, sometimes

to beg and plead, for alms

at the hour of prayer,

my own supplication,

or substitution, for the legs 

that do not walk, the legs

that have never walked,

withered, atrophied limbs

useful only for dragging.

This day, the man with the dark eyes

hears my prayer, my begging, sees

my hand raised and extended, hears 

the plea, the pleading, in my voice.

Instead of a coin or two, he drops

something else in my hand: words,

words of command, a command

to rise and walk. He extends

his hand to pull me up, and I stand,

my withered limbs growing and

adding muscle and strength and

I am walking for the first time

in my life, walking and soon

jumping, my plea, my prayer

for alms answered, the alms

of healed permanence.

Photograph by Geetanjal Khanna via Unsplash. Used with permission.