Get Your Premium Membership

Paralytic

What is the greater miracle: to rise and walk, or be forgiven of our sin? To think the first is to be paralyzed by pride embedded deep within. For are we not on balance good, deserving of an honored place? With crippled minds, and eyes too blind, we fail to apprehend our desperate need for grace. But lesser points to greater, the broken is restored, and when we grasp this sweet shalom, we, like the paralytic, rise, pick up our bed, and head in joy towards home.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2023




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

Date: 1/9/2023 8:05:00 PM
You left us on such a lovely note "we, like the paralytic, rise, pick up our bed, and head in joy towards home."
Login to Reply
Date: 1/8/2023 11:31:00 AM
Great poem. I enjoyed this well written piece A Fave :)
Login to Reply

Book: Shattered Sighs