Our Very Selves…
The weight of our rebellions
So heavy
The savior falls to the ground and cries
“…Let this cup pass…”
But the angel comes
With a looking glass
Aimed at you and me
To show Him our
Mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers
Children, neighbors and friends
Our very selves…
The Angel whispers
‘The Lost will be found
The lame will walk,
The crippled beasts will become men once again”
Rising,
He declares to his Father
“Not my will, but Thy Will Be Done!”
Michele Marie
