Divine Touch

I do not believe in things I cannot see.
 (Once in third grade, my mum healed my aching knee with just her hands hovering above the pain)

No palms could heal what He puts us through out of thin air.
 (It made me feel something then, when she raised them up towards the sky)

My mother's touch is rare now, my aching wandered up my lungs.
 (Has He torn down the bridge between us, has He closed the Golden Gates for me?)

The things I see are seldom real. 
 (Someone raises a finger and it starts a flood)

There is no way we can be saved, He knows this and He waits for final judgement
 (My sins will have come undone long before with a gentle hand above my heart.)

Lone, 19, Germany.