Sunday, January 10, 2021

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.

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