walking under the weight

by Elizabeth de Barros


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.


© 2013  Elizabeth DeBarros