The Disciple

by Holly Galt

I saw him

Walking towards me.

So this was

“Him,”

The great “Messiah”

Tall and strong.

He stood a man of beauty,

But a Savior?

There hovered ’round

His robe

People,

Of the lowest kind.

He comes nearer;

I’ll pretend not to see.

He walks with me

And stands within

The silent walls of memory

In Grandeur and

In Majesty …

Oh, had I not raised my eyes

To see Him!

The rushing sea

In all its power

Caught my being.

Face

To face,

He looked inside my soul.

My knees did tremble,

My hands shook.

His presence

Hurled me through the sky.

He smiled

And softly touched my shoulder.

His Spirit brushed my mind

And for an instant,

I saw

The Son of God

And could not walk away …

Courtesy of Globe Photo