I have carried a load far past my ability
year upon year
stack upon bundle
my strength grows, but never quite enough.
The weight of events and knowledge was always
meant to be more than one person could handle,
a cross too heavy to carry,
I stumble, I slowly suffocate.
Each alone with the burden of all sin
we will face the lawless legions and be crushed,
high for all to see
and galvanize their cynicism.
My scruples hobble me
I fall again
and have a vision
of this cross of thought
as mikoshi
or ark of promises, that we
as fellow believers
know will protect us.
We share the burden
and make it festival,
splashing through the river
and taking turns carrying the god.
Laughs reflect fear to the legions.
We lean on each other when the weight is too much.