The Woman Bleeding

Touching the tattered
cloak of Him
Who brings healing,
through faith and wounds.
How close must she be
to brush the robe
Of the One who passes by?
How long to wait
for Love to come through,
for Power to change
hurt into Healing?
Lay your face in the dirt…
reach open hands up…
fingertips rub, anticipate…
for death to pass…into Life.
Bleeding begins, and ends,
And Eternity remains.