In the eye of a brainstorm,

during the midst of a prayer

from the heavens..... sheer power

granted for me to share.

God would transform my fingers

into healers for all

then he'd beckon me go forth

I would answer the call.

I'd make haste and I'd run to

every hospital ward

bringing my touch of wonder

as a gift from the Lord.

There are so many healers

that proclaim what they do

I would silently go forth

making wishes come true.

First to all tiny children

dying from some disease

watch their eyes fill with wonder

as I set them at ease.

With just one touch

the blush of lost youth would return

as their bright eyes looked upward

seeing God's deep concern

as their health took a turn.

I would touch all the elders

housed in strapped chairs, in homes

grant them strength to rise upward

add new life to their bones.

They would walk out in long lines

from their prisons of death

they would dance in the meadows

breathing youth with each breath.

All the mothers and ladies

struck with cancers in breasts

and in wombs, and in ovaries

by my touch would be blest.

All the soldiers now dying

would be made well... sent home

all the stumps would be made whole

with new flesh and new bone.

Every baby aborted

would be drawn back to wombs

inside earth's barren mothers

from their small orphaned tombs.

All the dads and the brothers

all the grandpas and sons

who were ill I would touch them

granting new lives begun.

I would spend every hour

as a healer unleashed

offering nothing but God's hope

and the lessons it's preached.

Folks would flock by the millions

back to God through my hands

that were truly just his hands 

using mine to command.

I would ask for no money

need no fortune nor fame

always humble a servant

easing much of man's pains.

Granting healing to others

so that all of the earth

turns from death and pains suffering

in a glorious rebirth.

In the eye of a brainstorm

God I wish I could see

the right prayer that would let you

grant this power to me

this old world's full of suffering

what great joy that would be.

Art~Whimsically Yours Studio

Matthew F. Blowers III-(c)-2015