One Pure Drop of Red

Reality, or just a dream . . .

One Pure Drop of Red 
 

Through weary days and endless nights
In pain I journey on;
The burden of my sins so great
My hope is almost gone.

I stumble once, and then I fall
And, on my knees, I cry,
Why must I stay upon this earth?
Why can't You let me die?

Each day, each night, I vainly pray
To a God I cannot see;
I only seek forgiveness, Lord,
Why can You not hear me?

I close my eyes, I drop my head,
I crumple to the ground;
But all at once my pain is soothed,
Bright light glows all around!

I feel a touch upon my head,
A warmth that melts the ice;
He stands before me all in white
And love shines from His eyes.

Look up, my child, for I am here;
Why do you sorrow so?
I'm with you each and every day;
This you must surely know!

He holds a goblet in his hand
Of liquid, scarlet hued;
Look, in the glass, what do you see?
My blood--'twas shed for you.

I died so you might live, my child,
Your sins have been forgiven;
See these scars upon my hands,
Upon my side 'twere riven?

He held the goblet to my lips,
His light shone on my face;
I, the chosen vessel of
His everlasting grace.

Drink, he said, as I reached out
And touched His garment’s hem;
I closed my eyes but He was gone
When I reopened them.

'Twas but a dream, I sadly sighed,
As I awoke in bed;
Yet on the sheets of purest white
Was one pure drop of red.

© 2008 Linda Newman (All rights reserved)