(God’s Sonnet by Timothy J. Verret; it’s how I cope to hope in His Body so Brilliantly Bought)

You need somebody, anybody near.

Your body has candle-waxed from slowburn.

You’re what’s left of your body disappear,

and that’s a must, dear dust; your unconcern.

These days, I’m nobody, no one; a haunt.

My body is imaginings of past

lashes, straps, slashes, blows: The Tell-Tale Taunt.

Now? “Is there a doctor in the house?” Fast!

“Not the well who need a doctor; the sick.”

Mark Two:17 – Jesus IS Healing.

The Stethoscope Surgeon slices us up quick

to keep our body from the slab’s dealing.

Nobody goes under when Jesus saves

our body from somebody making waves.