Jesus, as I call Your Name,
I feel crushing defeat
Weighing down.
Surely, no, it couldn’t be,
Not my pride, no, not control,
My heavy crown.
I see a future full of stuff
To do, entirely of my own
Creating.
But the calendar constrains—
The due process of order leaves me
Waiting.
I open my mouth to speak,
Explain the tension holding
My weak love.
If weeping breaks the chains of fear,
Accept this act committed here
With fierce love.