I know how to fear
It has been part of me
All of my life
It comes too easily
In the middle of the night
Dreams that pour like water
From the holes in my skin
But what about love
And what of nurturing
The heart in me
It goes too easily
In the middle of the day
Slaps across my broken dream
Curses fly over me
A young boy of nine
Or maybe even four
Remembering
A man now fifty-three
Hearing the voice of Jesus
Knowing the love of the cross
From the holes in His skin
God can find a Way
Or make One of His own
Upon a cross
Red stained by His own blood
Climbing into His own tomb
To free someone like me
From the fear this life brings
If God can find time
To come down from His throne
To speak to us
Why can’t we find the time
To minister to the poor
To be the love of Christ
In someone else’s life
© 2010 Tim D. Coulter Sr.