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The Victor
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By Peter O
Other Poems by Peter O


The Victor

Father,
Lift the curtain over my soul's eyes,
Yes ,raise it with Your Quiet Grace
To see Your Son, Jesus.
His Eyes
That wake the dormant in me,
Soul touching.
His Arms,
Muscled from labor,
Raised to lift and free
The sick and demon held
From their cramped jails.
His walk,
A stride straight, soft and sure --
Powerfu,
Yet, Father,
Let me also see
His Eyes,
Blinded by saving Blood, yet,
Forgiving Eyes, Yes, a cosmos of forgivness.
His Arms
Stretched and suspended,
Contorted with mutanous pain;
BUT, more than all,
His walk,
Now washed of Blood, closed of Wounds,
He walks new, like a dawn rising, for
He wiped away Adam's web
Weaved by sin's spiders.

Yes, He is the VICTOR.


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Submitted: Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Last Updated: Wednesday, March 28, 2012

About the Poet
I am 79 years of age. For the past nine years I have been retired, after forty years, from the field of alcoholism and drug abuse in New York City. I am married and we have two grown sons and two grand-sons. My life changed through a grace-experience in 1967. Writing Christian prayers is a particular interest of mine. This came about by a growing awareness of the spiritual in recovery from addictions. I choose, intellectually and emotionally, to believe the Triune God of the Sared Scriptures as my Healer.


Other Poems by Peter O


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