Open
A(n) Ghazal
How do you see Christ, if not with His arms open, stretched out to heal, His own wounds and scars open?
What walls does He raise against those who come to Him? Let drop your own; see how He embraces, disarms, opens.
Who holds your heart now, drawn away from His path? Does wrath’s fire entice you, or outrage, its charms open?
Where can they go, whom you’d ruthlessly exile? What fields can they glean, if no Boazite farms open?
When will you run back to your First Love’s embrace, and share in His healing – to pass it on, with your arms open?