The Man with Leprosy

I don’t think
anyone
really understood
what it was like
not to be able
to go where you wanted;
when you wanted,
or
to see whoever you wanted.
Being able
to walk
and to talk
freely
was something most people
took for granted.
Even I
had taken all this
for granted
until it happened.
The worst thing
was that
I was not allowed
in the Temple;
not allowed
to worship.
I was unclean.
Instantly
I had been ostracised;
I had become
an outsider;
an untouchable.
Those who had
walked with me;
talked with me;
known me before
now kept their distance.
I was alone.
I was isolated
and it was hard.
I didn’t feel any different
inside.
I was the same person
that I had been before,
but….
I thought
I had resigned myself
to this solitary life.
I thought
I had accepted
my fate.
Then I heard
that this man,
Jesus,
was healing people
and
all my longings;
all my desire
to be whole again
re-surfaced.
I had to try.
But how?
How could I get near him?
Would he shy away from me
like everyone else?
Could I bear
another rebuff?
Could I bear
the shame;
the crushing sense
of hopelessness
returning?
Could I?
Something inside me
said, yes.
said, give it one more try.
said, go.
So I went.

As I approached,
a way opened
through the crowd.
I didn’t look at them.
I didn’t care why
they were backing away.
All I saw
was this man,
Jesus,
and he wasn’t
backing away.
Still I kept my distance.
I knelt down.
in front of everyone.
I begged for help.
I didn’t care anymore.
This was my last chance.
I couldn’t look
to see what was happening
and yet I knew
that he had moved
towards me;
towards me
and not away from me.
And then,
wonder of wonders,
he touched me.
I can’t describe
what that touch
felt like.
It was so long
since I had had
any human contact.
His touch
spread fire
through my body
and,
even before he spoke,
I knew
I was clean.


© Kathleen Wilks