Upon the pool’s still edge he lay in wait,
His friends with tender care bore up his frame,
Through years of dust and sorrow’s heavy claim,
To seek the waters stirred by healing touch.
So too in prayer we lift a soul’s estate,
A burdened heart we bear to mercy’s flame,
Where grace, unseen, may whisper soft its name,
And God’s own hand redeems what time berate.
By Bethesda’s side, the Savior’s voice awoke,
A broken form made whole in sudden gleam;
In supplication’s hush, we plead no less,
That love divine might rend the spirit’s yoke.
Thus friends and prayers align in one great theme:
To carry need to power that can bless.