Etch the Diagnosis

Etch the Diagnosis

(“Calling His twelve disciples to Him, He gave them power over depraved spirits to cast them out, and to heal every disease and every malady.” Matthew 10:1)

Compassion learned is compassion returned to its source;
the beautiful eyes that gaze on ugly days and interpret them
as gems still dirt and grime. Where evil lurks,
healing wins the day. Where darkness hides the leper’s sores,
daylight shows pain not shame to well-learned disciples
who no longer gasp at trapped souls,
no longer gag at vague memories of atrocities inflicted by
them on
us.

Evil still is evil long upon the gray apparitions,
But healing wins the loving back in spectrum’s fullest range:
from infra-red to ultra-violet, sins and violence are sickness
ravaging immunity.

Come once to the Heart which spoke Love upon nothing,
See once the eyes that envisioned dewy strolls with mankind,
hear today the voice that spoke a planet and baby-smell,
Touch the Hands that molded the clay, Lips that breathed the spirit,
and Feet that walked with open wounds in our unsanitary sanity.

Oh religion, die upon your insistences! Oh prejudices disguised as
righteous renditions; meet Him for a day, go to Him in a way
that molts the skin of shammery. We are crust left on the counter
too long.

We will come and sit at Your feet, Physician of our certainties,
and, throwing away our notebooks and pens, let You etch
the diagnosis and healing upon our hearts instead.