A Soldier Wounded in the Back

Written by John Arthur Spalding on May 3, 2014

My soul is torn right in the back
My wound has been dressed lightly.
I have been stabbed, in the back,
Then bandaged very tightly.
The problem is, I cannot reach
That far into my soul to take
The jagged dagger out. I need
Another to reach inside
To touch me where I bleed.

One I trust, Who’s ready there
Weeping, angry for the loss:
“This is different! It’s different,” He says,
“than when I burned away your dross!
A saboteur has done this!
An enemy has dared to touch
The apple of my eye!
He was not a kindred spirit
Who kissed your soul, to die.

“A deeper magic still, than this, can cause
The tissue of your soul to live.
You must forgive! From now on, you will wield
This sword of Hope in right hand,
And carry sacred Oil that seals
The wounds of saints who’ve been betrayed,
The efficacy of which depends
On One, kissed by friends, left to die,
His soul torn in the back.”

~by John Arthur Spalding © 2014