Matthew 8:21-22

All my anguish swept in on me,

Curled in a ball, I cried.

I wept my pillow out to sea

Upon the salty tide.

All of the things that I’d done wrong,

All those vile things I’d said,

Formed a chorus of raw disdain

That got stuck in my head.

And as I numbered all my flaws

I cowered in my bed,

For, if I rose and saw my face,

I knew that I’d despise

All of the ugliness that looked

Back through my mirrored eyes.

I thought that all of that was dead,

But yet, there it still lay,

Moldering like a long dead corpse,

And getting in my way.

For I could only stare, appalled,

At my rot on display.

And then the words came to my mind,

Spoken in Galilee,

Leave the dead to bury the dead,

Rise up and follow me.

And, as those words began to form

A whisper in my head,

I saw the sun burn through the night.

I rose up from my bed

And turned away from my dead past

To follow you instead.

Matthew 8:21-22

 ²¹ Another disciple said to him, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.”

 ²² But Jesus told him, “Follow me, and let the dead bury their own dead.”