How long the pain, I do not know—
before I felt the healing glow
of warmth, a soft caress, the flow
of balm into my wounds, and found
bent o'er me one who gently bound
my injuries and from the ground
onto his own beast lifted me
and took me to the inn to be
tended and cared for properly.
It does not matter, now, how long
I'd lain. My thoughts dwell not upon
the pain. Levite and priest are gone
from memory, and thieves no more
can rob me—as they did before
my neighbor closed my mental door
to hate, deceit, and priestly pride,
and opened it to kindness wide—
lest I too pass "the other side."
