Full flower

Full flower                                                                                                 

To become perfect, said Jesus,

leave all and follow Me

and the young man went away sad

for he had many possessions.

I am saddened also by the great wealth

of fear I refuse to leave behind. 

But I do not go away.  I trail my Lord

from a safe distance carrying my bundles with me.

Just love Me, says my Lord,

turning to me every now and then.

I don’t quite grasp His meaning but I cannot

let Him go without me into the yonder hills. 

My will is bent toward Him

(whether I bent it that way or did He)

and I pray my bruising, ironclad resolve

is but a rudimentary form of love, a seed perhaps,

which in some distant lifetime hence

shall come into full flower.

O child of God, how might your Lord be embraced

without dropping everything else you hold dear?