Walking on the beach
on a windswept Wednesday morning
I met a devastatingly handsome young man
who propositioned me:
'Ma'am are you aware that Jesus loves you? '
'I'm sure he does' I replied.
But I didn't tell him
that once in a vision
he told me he was Jewish.
There are times I'm sure Jesus loves me
and I love him in return
but I love him for his words not his wounds
for his living not his dying.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem