By the Hem of His Garments

This poem draws from the Biblical account in Matthew 9, centering on the woman who was healed by touching Jesus’ garment. | By Taylor O’Lynn

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Twelve years long,
her body a bucket full of holes.
Pain emptied her daily.
She knew.

His garment
hung loose at His side
as the crowd pressed in.
Noise. Elbows. Sandals.
Still, she moved toward
the One who heals.

Would He be angry?
Would they condemn her?
Would she die for this?

Twelve years of blood.
She reached,
                       fell
                              landed at His feet.

She knew.
He could restore.

 
With a fingertip graze.
A pinky-nail snag.
On the hem of His robe -
Risk became reward,
His power became her peace.

He knew.
Who touched me?
Turned.
Looked.

Heat bathed the nape of her neck
Shame and stares.
Snares and pointed fingers

He knew.
Who touched me?

Her words stumbled out,
folding beneath the weight of fear.

He answered,
Take heart, daughter.
Your faith has healed you.

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