How did you do it?

“Stone” Syd Weedon, 2020

Good night, cruel world.
Catch you on the flip side –
a little white pill,
a “kiss my ass, I’m leaving” pill,
a night of dreams too weird to remember,
comfort, peace for a while,
a foggy morning in the alley.

I didn’t ask you to pick my soul clean
of every last thing;
I didn’t ask you to love me.
I didn’t ask you to make it all work,
regardless of how impossible.
I knew you could feel so good;
I never knew you could be so reckless.

Ever so clearly, I meant to be destroyed;
ever so clearly, I was thinking a Jesus move,
pop from the tomb and laugh.
Hard lessons – Jesus is Jesus; I’m not.
I have loved you purely like a little child.
I have carried you in my arms.
I have nursed you like a mother.

I carry the Savior’s marks on my body,
the nail wounds in my hands
and a scar above my heart –
I have his Mystery but not his Grace.
I have only questions and itchy scars:
How did you do it, Jesus?
How did you roll away that stone?


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