I know I’m nothing like Jesus and those who would be crucified
the smell of fear bombards across county lines
Salvation in the air, in these troubled times,
coming to the creator,
earnest pining cry, budding from its curdled shell
thrown upon ourselves, for the saving ourselves
to learn the mysteries of a fallen cross, in between two thieves
athirst, bursting, piercing in his side
humanity comes alive, in the darkness
a pinch of glory
communion wafers, paper thin,
and waters in the blood
nobody but nobody can carry this cross
alone.
kindness sis Krissy
A Poet's Vision 
That ending knocked me dead. DEAD!
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humbly grateful, Lori Happy Palm Sunday 🙂
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There are so many crosses — I am grateful we are not alone.
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i am so touched….
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thank you 🙂
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