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Rated: · Poetry · Regional · #1102429
a miracle- cripples are healed at bethsaida

Dry,desolate desert
Parched air and scorching heat.
The crippled man lay beside the pool of water.
Stagnant, stale-- the water would not stir today.
A tear coursed down his leathery face.
He was waiting for a miracle.
Anything.
The water began to stir.
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