Unseen
Hiding behind The veil of black Keeping me unseen I enter through The women’s door Hoping I am clean. Going to the spickets I join the line Of black-robed women Washing face and hands In ceremony Hoping to be clean. Facing towards The holy city I hope my prayers Are heard by God Then the pain within Reminds me I’m unclean. Now I kneel down Face to the ground Uttering words I’ve always known Since I was a girl Yet still I am unclean. Slowly I rise Hopeless that I would ever Be good enough For God to be near Someone so unclean. But I’ve heard of a man in white, A man who’s kind Compassionate Who doesn’t push me Away as unclean. All of my life I’ve been taught that He’s just a prophet But what if He’s More than that and He can make me clean? What if He is Who they say He is? What if He is The Son of God And He did die To make us all clean? Could it be that This One in white Is walking on These dusty roads Beckoning me Though I am unclean? Could it be that He does want me Just as I am