Don’t look me in the eye,
stay by my side.
Don’t nod your head,
follow my tread.
Jesus doesn’t show his face,
yet footsteps shuffle in his place.
So let’s go walking.
Amongst us he first stands,
in temples made by human hands.
Then he says he’ll not depart,
when he dwells within our heart.
How can he walk if he’s stuck to me?
Fixed to my present infirmity.
He pushes me out of the door.
Something changes as we wander about,
only I talk yet he eases my doubt.
The presence I say that I adore,
becomes reality and more.
Take me back to the garden of old,
or the glory of the city of gold.
For we are walking.