Warm Embrace
She rides down the hall
beaten but not broken
to the place of her savior
She kneels at His feet
that tower above her
before moving aside the flowers
She touches his cloak of stone
as if she always knew
His touch could heal
and pulls herself beside Him
She melts into His cloak with a smile
as if His touch is warm and alive
inside of lifeless
She leans against Him
I wonder if she hears Him
if she truly sees and hears
better than any of us here
I can almost picture it-
his grey turning to flesh
to wrap His arms around her,
run His hand down her head
while telling her how much He loves her
again and again
Green pastures do you run
Run beside your savior
no more IV's
no more pain
you laugh
as you tumble
into His touch
his warm, alive embrace
"Good race"
He tells her
"Good race."