Wild Mercy

Wild Mercy

He walked through dust and thorn,

His robe heavy with the weight of love.

They called Him many names,

but only one could break the stones.

His hands were the shape of healing,

open, scarred, unafraid.

He touched the blind, the light obeyed,

and the sky held its breath.

The crowd was loud with need,

but His voice was softer than wind.

He spoke, and the broken rose,

like dawn from a field of ashes.

Wild mercy, untamed and endless,

still moves through the dark of hearts.

It finds me when I cannot find hope,

and teaches me to rise again.

I see His footprints in my silence,

and hear His name in the tide.

He does not leave, even when I falter,

He walks forever beside.

His love is the storm and the calm after,

the pain, the promise, the flame.

Wild mercy reigns unending,

and I am not the same.