Thursday, April 29, 2010

Difficult People

We are the difficult people.
We do not fit in.
We stand out, awkwardly.
And we annoy you, perplex you, vex you.
We try your patience.
We loathe being this way,
but we cannot help it.

We raise the bar of love.
We call forth new patience,
new kindness.

"Love never fails,"
but many fail us.
We are too damned hard to deal with.
We stand out by falling down.

We raise the bar of love.
Our hurt hurts you.

Let that hurt help
Let that aching pain raise the bar of love
So high
So high
That only grace can raise it.

The shape of our Cross is sharp;
it cuts away life.

What is the shape of your Cross
before our Cross?


Cliff Stewart said...

Melancholy, true, and shining with light. thanks.

Yossman said...

You have no idea what shape my cross has. Or maybe I should rather consider myself part of the 'we' of your poem. - Great poem!