I have been Christ on the cross, now I am the risen Christ.
Christ barefoot in winter
now I am Christ at ease waiting for his evening meal.
I am Christ with grown children watching the moon rise over a field
plowed for soybeans.
Christ losing his hearing, still quoting scriptures
only with a stammer now.
Beyond concerns for the comfort of the body
beyond arrogance and self-deprecation I bow to the totality
of my own being.

I have a heart that feels into distances unimagined by the brain.
I have cried and I have fallen under wheels and plow blades.
I am crying now, rejoicing now.
Have been a child now I am old, old
but letting go and rising up
I will answer to the name I agree to carry its end.

My name is Charlie Hopkins. I am your friend.



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