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Joseph was drawn out for a price
and he, in time, became like the king
Sometimes the well that holds you captive
is the womb keeping you for the blessing
There are shadows that whisper, "Patience,
the Sun is soon to appear"
Not all lips which are given the cup of Christ
can receive the taste of the Bloody sweetness
Not every mouth in which is placed the Bread
can enjoy the intimacy of His body
Not every one who claims to sing His song
can free the heart of the lonely with Love
The one who wishes to share the Presence
must endure the pangs of being pressed into the Likeness
Begin like Moses~kneeling in your desert~
even if you, like he, complain of the call
At the end of your rope of effort
You will find the hand that can point the way to compassion
I once asked Christ, "What shall I give?"
He said, "Who is speaking?" ... "That," said He.
I laid my body down
and some Breeze blew over me
I became, through such Grace,
the gift for the giving
Sometimes my words are not meant to make common sense~
they are meant to help us die to ourselves
*Brian K. Wilcox, December 28, 2006
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