He Touched Me
I Sat Alone in My Despair,
All Reason for Living Gone,
When a Stranger Sat Beside Me,
with a Beard and Hair Too Long.
I Was Soon Absorbed in Misery Again,
Not Knowing That I Cried.
The Tears Dripped off My Chin
and I Wished I Could Have Died.
His Voice Was Kind and Gentle,
So I Felt No Need to Flee.
He Asked Me What Was Wrong,
to Share May Set Me Free.
I Said, "Walk a Mile in My Shoes
and Feel this Unbearable Pain.
Face All the Problems I Have,
and Feel the Weight of My Shame."
He Said My Troubles Would Go Away
as the Wind Blows Away the Sands,
Then a Wondrous Joy Swept Through Me,
as He Touched Me with Nail Scarred Hands.
Connie Moore
09/29/96
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