"Now when the sun was setting, all those
who had any that were sick with various diseases
brought them to him; and he laid his hands
on every one of them and healed them."
Pulled from his mother's womb in haste;
The newborn baby gasps for air.
His lungs are plugged; no time to waste:
All hope's held by the expert care.
No chance to touch her newborn son,
A mother's heart's tied in a knot.
With frenzied fear, new life's begun:
All joy's held back; fear is her lot.
A father holds each sign of hope;
Tubes and machines sustain his son.
He knows despair's a slipp'ry slope;
He must remain the stronger one.
Who can explain what's come about?
The innocent upon the cross?
When life's at stake, all love's drawn
And hearts can triumph in their loss.
The hours stretch out into days;
The son's heartbeat's a metronome.
His small chest heaves there as he
His parents ache to take him home.
His first tube-feed; a diaper filled:
These signs of life rebuild their joy.
As tubes withdraw, parents are thrilled!
This baby blue is now their boy!
(c) Paul Buis, 2001
(1) Luke 4:40