Anticipating the end
you emptied
carrying the burden of perfection into the marketplace to barter away your breath
surrendering it to the world while we try to give you something in return
In our pride mingled with ignorance, we desired to invest a portion of our work to lay claim to something we could not pay for
often forgetting, you were paying a debt we would not comprehend
you seemingly overlook that I murdered you by the violence I exact on myself as I incarnate sin
You did not rage at this injustice, you forgave it, calling my wrong reproachable yet remain approachable
sprinkling, then pouring your blood upon the pitiable life I’ve offered you
calling this small movement, beautiful, making me believe, giving you my heart was worth more than gold and myrrh
as if I am the frankincense, the fragrance, the aroma you desire
my almost obsolete obedience, you mold into something and call it the delight of your eyes
you embrace, you wash, you display, stopping my decay
offering me a better body
offering a “where are your accusers?’ to your shamed daughter
offering a “welcome home” sandals, robe and ring to your unforgotten son
offering “behold your son” to the wounded heart, blessed mother
offering your footsteps to mimic and show us the Father who is Ours
offering yourself, as if, I was never not your friend.
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