Oh God,
Will I react to what I can perceive as treachery
by a brother or a sister (or a group),
by turning my small beating heart away from love?
Because I’m hurt, and now I feel the sting,
will I lash out like two year old untrained?
Oh God,
I’m scared that I will turn from your caress,
to spitting or accusing, or just steel
myself to “do the job” efficiently,
without the help of spirit who can heal.
Oh God,
The nub of all that matters most
is here within our grasp, but to reach out
might mean the loss of hand, limb, life. No ghost
am I to feel the pain, and then disdain, again?
Oh God,
I am too small to fight those pow’rs.
But not to hide myself away in you.
Like little embryo in womb of Mum,
determined, I burrow into you too.
Oh God,
my own self will becoming into view,
as soon as I get lost - this old one who
still thinks that it's a god, wants all to do
what they, to such a being, now should do too.
Oh God,
that cross! Criss Cross. It seems to mark.
It ends a life of self centered on throne.
If that was all, and then off to the dark,
I could not do his word. I’d stay alone.
Oh God,
He did not say to them “Go off and do…”
without still ending up with “follow me”.
While watching him, I then can follow through.
I will not shut my eyes to him to see.
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