hanging on a cross that’s
hanging on my neck
its weight pulls like a millstone
my world sinks like a shipwreck.
five beads then mother mary
and fifty more around
prayers go up like smoke signals
screaming without sound.
thirsting for your living water
hungering for unknown bread
i should’ve knocked just once more
but dug through trash instead.
and so i go down to the river
not to sing or dance or even pray
but to mourn for this doubter, this follower,
this lost sheep so led astray.
on and on, an endless battle rages
as my head and heart compete
“why should the Almighty One listen to me?”
“but recline at his table and eat.”
and so i come, bruised and broken
back to that cross of death and shame
but the road leads also to the empty tomb
of new life, new hope, new name.
thus my pilgrimage takes me
and thus i journey on
because just as the Son has risen
so too a brand new dawn.
