He feeds on straw in the dark
chambers of his heart.
There are no nail holes in his hands.
He leaves no bread
crumbs for us follow. He is no Savior.
We have no hymns to give him.
He is ordinary.
He makes mistakes.
He is no icon guiding us on a snowy night
out of the frigid darkness into the light.
He knows how to fail.
He is one of us.
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