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Pinions

Yeshua stood above me,

Hand out


To me drunk in the gutter begging for a

Handout


His sword hilt handled in a tilt downward

Sharpness in the soil


“Get up brother”.


His face smudged with char, and

Of course the wounds on his arms


His eyes the sight of every sunrise ever made


Ink on His quadriceps name above all kings

And a wind started up, running the smoke into rings


“How long have you been down?

Get up and walk”


I lifted my hand against shame’s gravity

knowing the weight of sin was being pulled off that had me



pinned


"A woman repents for her sins", by Gustave Dore

7 times a fall

7 more up



He kissed me on my matted hair, and set me on a rock

Bound up my wounds like a little lamb

And brought me out of shock


“You fought well, stay with Me, we press on”


Weight on feet I stumbled forward,

he held me a/cross his shoulders


And as I found my footing

he moved onward


and I saw his back

Riddled with darts and javelin heads broken at the shafts


His self a shield like a wing over my fragile frame (ps 91)


and the blood on my armor was His.



By Nathaniel Cooley








Loose interpretation:

Weakness and sin cause wreckage. Repeatedly and habitually failing.

Jesus, Yeshua, covers us with His pinions. Wings. Psalm 91.

Kindness of a conquering King to a warrior who sloppily struggles.

He takes the bullets and cheers us on. His blood spilled on us

restores us, undeservedly.

May we be stronger and live without sin.

In Jesus' name.


Hail Christ.


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