An Easter poem…
Yes, Lord, I hear you
calling me to the foot of your cross
I love you, I want to carry your burden
but I see your pain–
The salty tears in your eyes
The rancid smell of your dying
The sticky blood knotting thorns and hair
The slivers buried deep in your palms
The shame of your broken nakedness
–And I am a sparrow in a storm
Yes, my child, I know your fear
It bows my back and stills my spirit
Yet, where else but at the foot of my cross
Can you be close enough–
To feel the soulless metal that stole my life
To see the gnarled wood through my wounds
to kneel in the dirt,
moist with my sweat and tears and blood
–To know, truly, finally what I did for you?
Where else, but here, at the heel of my suffering
Are you close enough for me to touch and hold you,
And whisper, so softly that only your heart will hear,
“I love you.”
