Through Him, the air split open,
not with thunder, but with tenderness.
Each parable sent ripples in still water,
each word held weight, like a bridge.
The Son leaned into the ache,
into the hum of heartbreak,
and the soft pulse of the hopeful.
He touched lepers with hands
that spoke louder than sermons.
He knelt in dirt beside the outcast,
painting God's mercy on their shoulders.
When the blind man wept,
suddenly flooded with light,
could we not see grace bloom
in the cracks of his joy?
Every miracle undressed God’s heart,
showed veins pulsing full of love,
mercy spilling from every wound,
and forgiveness breaking like dawn.
-
Author:
gray0328 (
Offline) - Published: August 5th, 2026 11:16
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 18
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments1
A lovely poem of faith and belief in a higher power concentrated in a man god that was sent for all mankind. A fave my friend
Thank You Soren
My pleasure Gray
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.