My Burden is Light

Your load is a cross, mine a sack,
Yours might be heavy, mine seems light
With baggage accumulated en route,
Baggage that should have been shed
But held onto for dear life,
When letting go would be good.

Mistakes recalled, guilt cultivated,
Mishaps gone over, regrets remembered,
Grudges nursed and then rehearsed,
Fanned with resentment to keep them alive.
Destroying me, as the cross might you,
So that both of us face the worst.

I should lend a hand with your burden
But am weighed down by mine;
So instead walk alone,
Following with the crowd
Waiting to watch how a man dies
Knowing the guilt is not his own.

Follow to the hill outside the walls
Where no one really wants to be,
Place of a skull and a broken back;
Leftovers of life, discarded refuse,
The rubbish pit, the city dump;
There to plant a cross, and empty a sack.

February 2014

An invitation from Jesus -  Matthew 11: 28-30; someone who helped him carry the cross - Luke 23:26;
and a story in The Pilgrim's Progress - how Christian lost his burden.