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Tuesday, May 22, 2012

on my knees
at the foot of the Cross,
i position myself
in humility and reverence.

nothing in me
is worthy of this,
the Cross- the Cross.

so i bow,
low and emptied out,
before ultimate forgiveness.

if He can forgive me,
so full of me and vile,
how can i do less than

shall i rise up-
in the hideous glory of myself,
proud and righteous,
and bare my bleeding heart
for all to see?

could i? would i?

bowed low,
i linger here,
beneath the arms of mercy,
quieted, still,
looking long
on the anguished face
of love.