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By Peter O
Other Poems by Peter O


"...a man called Jesus made clay and anointed
my eyes and said: 'Go to the Pool of Siloam and
wash.' So I went and washed and gained sight." John 9:11


Your Son, Jesus, is a Stream,
Like the roll of melted mountain snow,
He carries us to the Big-Water -- You.

Yes. Jesus is a Stream,
Fresh and cleansing, Your Gift
To wash my soul's eyes with,

So that I never
Stumble and grop
After blind guides, ones
Lacking upward-eyes.

Nor chase the flesh's smoke
And be soul burned, left
Scared and sightless

Nor live with eyes dimmed
And prayers bleared,
Leaving faith's metal to rust.


Keep the world's lard
From my eyes, so that
I don't feed and fatten
On the blind "I", but
Be soul trim,
Cleansed by Jesus.

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Submitted: Saturday, May 12, 2012

Last Updated: Saturday, May 12, 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.

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