Thursday, November 28, 2013

My Cross


The wood was very special
Chosen with great care
The best I could find
Within the chaos of my life

I sanded and polished it
Years of practice, is what it took
To smooth it with
The tears of my misery

I started small
Carved it, so I could carry it
But discontent, I made it large
So it could carry me

The joints are special
Tongue and groove
Grooved from my tongues’
Endless retelling my misery

I stood back to admire
This cross of mine
And secretly I was pleased
Impressed by my own unhappiness

I hung upon my cross
And whimpered in humility
A scene was required
But not too much

The wise laughed
At my hanging
Unimpressed by
Simpering sacrifice

The wise are those
Whom life has crucified
They endured the pain and
Know, life gives us all a cross

They gave me words of life
Get down from your cross
Let’s burn the wood
And light the fire to life


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