Outstretched Hands

Ujamaa Christian Poetry

Her tearful heart spilled unbearable memories,
Of when she tried to touch the holy Shroud of Turin.
She recalled his weight'd burden and anguish'd struggle,
And felt as if, she herself, wore his prickled thorny crown.
Her consuming memories bear painful witness to his crucifixion,
Burning agonizing footprints into her awakened sympathies,
And dismal reminders scream mercy, compassion, mercy!

When she saw Christ's image etched on her linen veil,
Imprinted as he tugged his sweat-stained cross to Calvary;
Memories beckoned her, remember this bloodied Heavenly sign,
Remember, that Jesus Christ die for us,
Remember, he forgave us all for all our unlit sins.

Now every night as she dreams in Heavenly splendor,
Remembering, she pushes and shoves the dazed crowd aside,
With wisdom, she reaches out to him with outstretched hands,
With compassion, she clutches the feet of our beloved Savior,
As her river of tears cleanse spiked feet of the son of God,
He beckons her gently, come to me with outstretched hands...
Come, let me lift your heavy, knotted burdens,
Come, let me wrap you in my warm, redeeming Shroud of Turin.

Written by Jimmy L. Holder

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