Crucifix
I saw a crucifix today;
An antique power pole
Arrayed with white
Fluttering feedsack scrap.
Blown by some miracle of wind?
Or placed
By hands that know too well
The piercing pain?
No figure on this tree
Illumined by
The pale blue headlights of the passing cars.
Is that because it waits for me?
For us?
To take our crosses and be crucified with Christ?
Right here beside the road,
Stripped of crude sacking.
Not in the sanctity of church
Where loving hands paint garments at our waists
To save our shame.
But in the dark, the cold, the hard spring rain
Shivering, alone,
As He'd have felt.
Embrace the cross
As death becomes
New life.
An antique power pole
Arrayed with white
Fluttering feedsack scrap.
Blown by some miracle of wind?
Or placed
By hands that know too well
The piercing pain?
No figure on this tree
Illumined by
The pale blue headlights of the passing cars.
Is that because it waits for me?
For us?
To take our crosses and be crucified with Christ?
Right here beside the road,
Stripped of crude sacking.
Not in the sanctity of church
Where loving hands paint garments at our waists
To save our shame.
But in the dark, the cold, the hard spring rain
Shivering, alone,
As He'd have felt.
Embrace the cross
As death becomes
New life.
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