Oh slip on skin just once again
and come to feel this ache I’m in
You knew it once with nails and blood
as beads of sweat bled into mud.
You heard the sound, through mocking jeers
as the Saviour’s cheeks were strewn with tears
and you saw the sight, the looks of hate
as buckling shoulders bore the weight
of sin which heaped upon thy crown
of thornes entagled round, and around.
But God, that was some time ago
and times have changed, though the change seems slow
for now my trust waxes and wanes
as the apogee and perigee of the moon in it’s phase
though without hands, pulls taught the sea
to draw hulking tides back unto thee
and remind again, in that hidden place
of the Holy Carpenter’s human face.
So Christ, may I touch just once more,
that point on your palms, where the steel tore?
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