by Jonathan Hunter-Kilmer
the cross lies on my back
I struggle
prone
mouth filled with dirt
my toes and fingers
scratch
to move
the sweat now seems to squirt
the pebbles lance
into my gut
salt stings my blurry eyes
I try
so hard to silent keep
but blows force out weak cries
so close my eyes
and look at You
Beloved
You wipe my face
and sit by me
until I get
a breath
legs surge
new pace
stand up
and drink
a power giving cleansing
sweet draught from Your cup
of joyful pain
flesh giving way
to spirit's strength
and shut
my ears to jeers
my mind to pain
accepted goes away
and with Your fingers
mine entwine
my soul soars as You say
I am Your bride
my soul is stride
this our new wedding day
