Intimate
A poem.
I want…
To hold Your hand
To touch Your face
To intimately know
The Lord, my God
And, I can.
God, the Father
God, the Son
God, the Holy Spirit
Three, in One.
— And —
The Word.
God, the Word.
God, the Son.
Jesus,
When I place my hand
Ever so softly
On the cover of
My Bible
Is it the glove on Your hand?
The curtain of Your sanctuary,
A veil over Your glory?
Which I
So easily
Can fold away
To reveal —
You.
Your hand
Bare skinned
Outstretched
Glory-filled
Ready to grasp
Mine.
Every word,
Not just a love letter,
Something sent
From long ago
But —
You. Jesus.
Steady
Gentle
Strong
Words holding my heart
As my eyes and fingers
Search yours
When my hand
Rests on Your page
I touch
Who am I
That you would allow such intimacy?
That when I wake up
When I go to bed
Throughout my day
I need only
To reach out
And our hands
Touch.
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You capture the thirst of a bright eyed soul,seeking god in wonder.BUT WHEN I READ BETWEEN THE LINES I SEE THAT YOU TELL THE STORY THAT IT IS ACTUALLY GOD HIMSELF REACHING OUT TO HIS CREATION.WHAT BEAUTIFUL WORDS.
Thank you so much, Keith! And I love how you took it a step further. We can reach out and touch God because He is reaching out to us. Beautiful.