The conduit from heaven to cell
I read the story today about the woman
Who bled for twelve years and believed her healing
Arrived when Jesus came through (like an omen),
And if she could just get near enough, steeling
Her nerve through the throng, using what small
Reserves of vitality she had for that day–
A widow’s mite–to spend for the chance to crawl
Through stronger, bigger bodies that looked away
From her in the streets since she was, after all, unclean.
She must have been low to the ground when her finger
Brushed the rough, dusty fabric — unseen
By her hungry neighbors, but felt by the life-bringer.
Was her faith-filled hand the conduit from heaven to cell?
Since the Healer said, “Your faith has made you well.”