A whole city came to a door
  looking to be made well
    any little thing gone
Touched, such a small thing
  to reach a hand and claim
    those unclean, loved
Open arms, none refused
  such a small thing to reach out
    reconcile, bring in, redeem
Yet we pull ourselves away
  it can't possibly be us
    like the disciples who couldn't
Heal a son possessed
  don't touch, we can't do this
    how long will we believe 
The lie we can't, reaching
  beyond to the horizon
    of possibility, beyond
The hurt or our imagined injury
  beyond the labels so easily cast
    beyond unclean and we are too
Who cares, who can draw
  the hurting to the door
    and dare greatly to reach