Five Wounds

His nail-scarred palms hand me trial and blessing. His gospel feet run my ordered days. The thoracic flood my core-sin redressing. The stain in my heart is bleached by his grace. His hands beckon Peter to step on the tempest, Waken Talitha who in death only sleeps. They wipe his own eyes when his sorrow breaks heaviest For his friend, Life and Resurrection weeps. His feet bear him here through time's threshold leaping. Washed with tears and perfume strides the sea. These feet cross the cosmos a bride in seeking And strides Calvary crossed to bring healing to me. Sleeping in death, having opened his side From the second Adam’s rib comes a pure, spotless bride.

artwork: Godfrey of Bouillon wearing the Jerusalem Cross as depicted in a late medieval fresco (Castello della Manta, Piedmont, Italy, c. 1420