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Divine DreamI dreamed a dream a night ago... I was in an empty hall, wandering alone and lost. It was dark and there was no light. Alone until, Footsteps echoed in the empty room, and a bright light flooded my vision until I could not see. No word was uttered, but I knew it was my Lord. I fell to His feet, weeping; my breathing was quickened. Why was He here? "It doesn't matter," I thought to myself. "He's here." As I lay at His feet, I felt the remains of an ancient wound. A scar on each leg, between the feet and the knees, as from a nail. "The cross," I thought as I struggled to breathe. I relinquished my hold on His ankles and remembered how dirty I was and how perfect He is. How could I face Him? I turned my back and buried my face in unclean hands, trying to clean them with my tears, glad I could not see. I felt the King kneel down to me; He was on my level, yet I could not turn around. I didn't have to do so. Suddenly I was in His arms. They were strong, as were His hands, but they, too, bore the scars. He turned me around and lifted my blind eyes to His. "Don't fear," His gesture suggested. How could I not? I extended my hand to feel His face, is such a thing possible? and He did not stop me. His skin was thick, though not like leather, and it bore the creases of one who had lived his life in deep thought. He was like me...or I like him. His strong, gentle hands brushed the hair and tears from my face. Then, He stood and walked away, leaving me in the quiet solitude I now cherish. I say aloud, "Good-night, my Prince of Peace." My heart tells me, "Good-night." Sandy Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem |
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