Liberation? You offer servitude.
Purity and bliss? Ghamela yoga:
pain, grime, exhaustion –
ground to dust under Your heel.
You drive a hard bargain, Sir! What sort
of fools signs up for that tour of duty?
Pilate thought to wash his hands of Jesus.
You make sure we get ours dirty –
graves deeply dug; Your garment’s hem
muddied and twisted in our fists.
Desperate, prodigal and impaired? Yes.
Apprehensive and imprudent? Yes ...
nonetheless, I love and am slave
of the Slave of the love of His lovers.
O child of God, servitude? You bleat
at each pinch of the fetters, each tug of the chain.
(from A Jewel in the Dust)