This poem has been published in a Canadian publication “Glad Tidings” and was accepted for reprint in “Ancient Paths” which I am not sure is still publishing. I post it today in loving memory of my cousin who knows what it means to be forgiven by a loving Savior.
His feet are all I dare look at
count the toes, the knots on the sandals,
the calluses from feet
well-acquainted with our rocky roads,
dust cakes in the crevices between his toes.
I am a woman of sin
I feel each pin-prick within
each wrong choice
each action, each taunt voiced—
let the tears begin
With a note of shock, shame
I see each tear splatter, muddy HIS feet
and the tears fall faster, wet, full drops
I weep in silence, mouthing his name.
I have no cloth to repair the damage
I have wrought, unfasten the sandals
tug off both shoes—nothing to do
but towel His feet with my proud tresses,
humble my only glory before the Lord.
And retreat with His verbal benediction
ringing through my pierced heart,
“daughter, your sins are forgiven”
c.Darlene Moore Berg