The sign on my head
could burn its way
through skin, sinew and skull
to be indelibly scarred
on my brain
It could be so meshed
with my mind, that my every
glance is overlaid with
its image—so that—
to view this evil world
would not be a vision
of evil, but rather
a mere backdrop to that cross
This sign on my head
remains on my head
not burning—for its
scarring is not on me,
but on Another, instead
From dust I came,
to dust I shall return.
Selah
©Judy Eurey
