I see a little girl
In a wheelchair
And, Jesus-like,
I want to say
To her gently
Arise and walk!
And disappear
Before she or her family
Can thank me

But I am not Jesus.
I am only a very flawed man
Who has seen enough of life
To know beautiful little girls
Are confined to wheelchairs
And other beautiful little girls
Die of cancer
Or in car accidents
And in house fires.

Life is like that
Happiness and tenderness
Leave as the Spring laughs
But tragedy
Lurks like terrorists
In the background
Denying too much joy

Always remember
The violin also
Plays loud and joyously
In the background
God’s music in rhythm for you
Appears even in a wheelchair
And children’s cancer wards
Celebrate the child
Recognize the crippled
Or cancer condition.

But sing Creation’s praise
Despite the endless drumbeat
Of horror and death
LIFE, LIFE, LIFE continues

Like a heartbeat
To the gift of life
And life eternal
A symphony of sound,
Harmony and flesh

Life is here
Life is present
Life demands your time
Because the grave waits
Quiet and certain
In the distance

Little girls in wheelchairs
And in cancer wards
Ask not your pity or praise
But your everyday
Because they have never known
Everyday like you

But you
Being you
Being not confined
To a wheelchair
Or cancer ward
Look up
Look up
Look up
Even when the pain
Is accidently present
In every pore
Enjoy the current laughter,

The baby newborn’s demands
And the violin concert
That screams to you again

You must love
You must give
You must hope
Jesus-like, and here is the mystery,
Even though you are not Him.