Jesus came down from the mount

After teaching all who’d hear,

The way to live a Higher Law,

Toward perfection steer.

Blessed are the merciful,

The ones who goodness seek,

Blessed are the peacemakers,

The humble and the meek.

Then He came down to where I lived,

To dark caves and empty tombs,

Where the lepers seek to hide

Their rotting skin and wounds.

I saw this Man and knew that He

Could heal me with His touch,

But would He stoop to even look

At one unclean in disgust?

Other usually passed right by

As if I did not exist;

I was cast out from kith and kin,

No longer loved or even missed.

But this Man, nay, even more,

This very messenger from God,

Stopped and gazed upon my plight,

And I raised my eyes in awe.

“What wilt ye have me do?”

This Jesus asked of me;

I said in quiet voice so low,

“Heal my leprosy.”

He could have spoken but one word;

I knew He had the power;

But first he reached out with his hand

And touched me as if a flower.

His caress meant more than words,

For one who was never touched,

For any who did so were “Unclean” too,

In need of purifying rites, and such.

Then He spoke the healing words:

“Be thou clean, O Friend,”

And I felt wrapped in His love,

In a love that would not end.

He came down and showed the way

Of all the truths He’d just taught,

He mourned with me, then mercy gave,

In the healing that I sought.

My skin was fair and whole once more,

My heart seemed it might burst,

With grace divine, from this Man of God,

Who was willing to touch me first.