When Sight Came Wrapped in Blindness

Here is an original poem, written by yours truly. Once in a while I like to write some (poorly written) poetry for fun, and I thought I would share this one with you all. It is about Paul, and yes, I took a few liberties with it... nevertheless, enjoy! :)

When Sight Came Wrapped in Blindess

When sight came wrapped in blindess that hot and dusty day,

I was galloping upon my horse, a holy, upright way.

My neck was bent upon the steed that bore me to my chore; 

And when I thought about my goal, I boiled more than before.

The sweat poured from my brow and arms, my hands stained with horses' leather; 

I grimaced as I thought of what came from that flock who stood together.

Those "Christians" cowering upon the floor of houses that I entered

And drug away for heresy, and murdered, for the better-- 

And as I thought about their faces both calm and resigned,

I puzzled at their rebelliousness- a fine thought for my mind

When all of a sudden, I was knocked off my fine horse

And fell to the ground with a loud THUD and no remorse.

A Mighty Voice cried out, "Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?" 

And my heart filled with dread-- for at once I knew it was He.

Incredulous, and to be sure, I asked, "Who art thou, Lord?" 

And that Voice of voices grew in strength and cried louder than before:

"I am Jesus who thou persecutes! Now rise, and be on your way;

and later in Damascus I will tell you about your stay." 

I stood once more upon my feet and then to my surprise,

Found that this great and mighty Jesus had closed my own two eyes!

"I cannot see!" I cried, and reached out my hand for help; 

And there a friend clasped it and brought it to himself.

He said, "Oh Saul, I'm afraid we've made a mistake! 

This Jesus that we hate so much is real and is not fake!" 

Onward we walked, and weaker I grew, for I would not not eat or drink;

I needed every minute to ponder and process and wonder and think. 

I had missed it! I had missed Him! This Jesus who I despised,

Was all the time in front of me, right before my eyes! 

At last we reached the gates of the city, and entered not so pious;

When there we ran smack into a man called Ananias.

He laid his hands upon my head and prayed a prayer for me,

And there the scales fell off my eyes-- at last, I could truly see!

Not just the light or friends or birds or things lovely to behold,

I saw the Man Jesus for who He was-- the God, I Am, of old.

I felt such sorrow for what I had done to followers of the Way,

And grateful to this Jesus for his mercy on me that day. 

He showed me that He lives and cares about each and every one of us,

When sight came wrapped in blindess that day,

On the road to Damascus. 

-Hannah Carlisle