50.  The Only One Whose Heart Bleeds Too

Jesus loves me, this I know

For my heart bleeds His shade

Of suffering, and I no longer

Hold my future in my hands.

How little we know of happiness

And yet tout it as the only way

Of knowing Him, but how happy

Can one be, staring down the barrel

Of a friend’s disloyalty,

Holding the noose tied by all

Who claim you ignorant,

Or feeling the blade set against

Your skin by those who shared

the same womb?

He cried out to the only One

Who ever understood,

And isn’t that what we do too?

Abba, Father, have you forsaken us?

Or maybe you just walk slightly ahead

With a gentle tenderness that needs

No sound.

So, no, maybe happiness has nothing

To do with it. But maybe it’s more

Like knowing the only One

Whose heart bleeds too.