- Written April 2017
Alongside the despised and rejected,
Facing the ignominy of crucifixion,
With love perfected if ever it could be,
Yet sharing with a solidarity of her own.
But today she herself is nailed up,
Pinned down by a seat-belt in a wheelchair,
Maybe hoping for a little of the leftovers
That might enhance her own dignity.
But the cross stands empty, deserted,
A forlorn icon; a few stale bread crumbs
With drops of wine, once body and blood.
But her self-worth grows when she senses the love
Of those welcoming her as the one crucified.
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