And lumbers slowly forth to him for alms
Hands stretched, waiting as if for an answer
Her smile assumes an act of kindness
She wants to kneel, she wants to pray, but can't
ask him to join her, like a child afraid to play
without words he cradles her cheek and chants
Violet skies fill her eyes; intonations blankets her soul
candles lit, the cost of healing is paid
Humbled by the currency of hope
she no longer searches for answers
Her hands gently let go of the questions
She looks up, cries in praise of grace
For she was there to see him save
To lick his wide soft feet and upturned palms