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I’ve sat outside this city’s
gates,
For years it seem to me,
With my hand I reach out
begging,
For I’m blind and cannot see.
I hear them as they shuffle by
indifferent to my pain.
They drop their tokens in my
cup
as I thank them once again.
My life is dark and lonely and
things
are missing in this
place
For I’ve never seen a flower
or a smile on a face.
I hear them tell of a man who
was born of virgin birth.
And that there’s never been
anyone
like Him walk upon this earth.
They say He’s healed the sick
and
made the lame to walk.
I get so excited when of Him
I hear them talk.
If I could only get to Him,
of this I’m very sure,
Just a touch from this
man called Jesus
And my eyes He could
surely cure.
But until then, I’ll sit
here, in this
dark and lonely place
Waiting for this Jesus to
behold
his blessed face.
A shout breaks the silence,”
Jesus is coming to the gate.”
Oh if He could only see me
before
he passes and it’s too late.
The crowd is getting closer
for
I hear their excited cries.
Then in my darkness
there is a hush...
someone touched my eyes....
A feeling then passed through
me...
I could not quite understand.
But I knew I had been touched
by
the Master’s healing hand.
My eyes began to focus and
I began to see
The man who had touched my
eyes
was standing right in front of
me.
The smile upon His gentle face
Was blazed into my mind
And I thanked this man called
Jesus
For now I see although I was
blind.
Written by
Kevin Roberts in 10-3-1986
 
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