Healing

Be healed!
They shout and press a hand to a forehead and the crowd goes wild.
We want it. The mystery of things changed in the moment
Of walking free and demons released and the wounds gone away.

And we do heal, sometimes with drama and sometimes just in that
creeping so slowly
moment passing to week becoming year sort of way.
The small cuts and the big cuts knitting together in time.

Our hearts may be slower.
The pain a different sort and the wondering and the not knowing.
Harder to suture a soul quaking with fear.

But I gotta heal.
This and that and the one from last week, last year, 10 years past.

The gaps in the big world too wanting a reassuring hand.
Change and justice pushing against the pain of the ages
that kind of healing too.
Making things right.

I do my own work as I can and I ask for help and phone calls come and
petals of roses
and something warm in a simple square glass dish.

Then sometimes I just need to crawl in the lap of God.