“Deny yourself,” He says
so pure, the call
that strikes the core of soul and flesh
and crashes down upon
the rocks of my existence.
Huh? my bewildered cry,
What are You asking?
No thought for tomorrow?
No insisting my way be done
in this my momentary life?
And what of my reputation, huh?
Shall I become
a nameless empty shell
of a nobody
(Or shall I die to self
and let the lusts thereof deplete
until I am a new and empty vessel?)
“Take up your cross,” His voice rings out
with uncertain clarity.
Huh? My cross? What is that?
Why so vague in Your requests -
I know of none but yours that paid
a price I cannot match and yet -
there is a cost I must surely count.
Why do You ask such a thing of me?
You, full of glory and splendour
and me an unworthy toad.
So shall I bear this cross
with joy complete -
my lot in life a service unto You.
“Follow Me!” His voice commands
His life set forth in words so plain -
denying self and He a King!
Yet stooping low to bear the cross
of human misadventure,
dwells with us of earthly heart
(who know not what he is about)
and loves us still,
His own heart breaking.
And so I dare to ask,
may I please follow?
And what will become
of my unholy self …
when I …
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