February 29, 2008

My Journey to God

Carrying My Cross

I do not carry my cross
As a weight upon my shoulders.
Rather, it is, as Mary,
The body laying across my
Lap of the dead Jesus.

His head hanging back,
Eyes open in non-seeing slits,
Hand limp, touching the ground,
Making all things holy,
His full weight draped over
Me in the profound moment
Of the deep sleep of death.

My heart shattering with the knowledge
That the divine broken, blood-covered body
Is an act of unconditional love.
This is the cross that
Peals through myself in
A bone crushing way.

By Trudy Bledsoe

(Trudy Bledsoe is a member of St. Christopher Parish in Indianapolis and the Order of Secular Discalced Carmelites at the Monastery of the Resurrection in Indianapolis.) †

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