He made a journey and he pleaded
Begged for his son to be made whole
Could he have known the completeness
That would take place? Did he even
Suspect it would mean more than just
Being made whole from illness that
Every part would be reknit in discovery
Of the One who gave back life and
Changed lives forever, just a touch
A whisper on the wind, flooding the
Whole sickroom because the Spirit
Blows where it desires and we are not
Built to withstand its draw on us we
Are only meant to listen to its howling