walking under the weight

by Elizabeth de Barros

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Daily the brightness of Christ shines 

in darkness He dawns 

shadows flee,

clouds scatter,

trees bend,

horses run —

I fall.

The weight of glory is too much to bear.

Under His arm, with love swelling, grace girding,

I am helped,

but collapse at the thunder of His voice.

He rivets me,

strikes me,

forges what He will against my will.

This is surrender: 

His hands are massive.

And what does ascension look like?

Christ in me,

hope of glory.

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© 2013  Elizabeth DeBarros

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