Cross

Cross

 

Blood, sweat and tears

These you shed for our fears

I cannot bear to look on your agony

But I also cannot look away

Your spirit is rising

But look at you fighting to stay

I want you to stay

I want you to be with me

But you know more than I

That cannot be so

Tell me you will find me

Then let yourself go

Go back to your maker

Go back to your home

Your visit was brief, precious and lovely

And I will cry until I am as dry as bone

But you have made me finally see

That the shadows lift

And we are never really alone

 

This cross hangs above the pulpit in St. Mary's, Eastbourne, East Sussex, UK.

My empathy reaches out and poetry is the result of gazing and responding deeply to this icon of paradoxical humanity.

 

Other poems and images can be found on my website:

www.shelleyturnerpoetpix.com

Done