By Jonathan Hunter-Kilmer
open hands
to loosen hold
shoulders gripped by mental cold
letting mercy
soreness rub
fear enkindle
burn as scrub
points of pain
that nothing grabs
nothing crowds and weakness stabs
crawling surely into flesh
body pierce emotions thresh
let my self lift out of this
floating up Your trail
with hiss
teaming anguishes behind
only body does it bind
out of outspread palms You take
sorrow endured for Your sake
as it must be
I'll be seared
by Your love not what is feared
splayed and supple for Your lance
thought impale
my heart will dance
greedy wants blade will run through
as Your bride escapes to You
