It’s
not a warm electric
blanket,
she said, wrapping
itself
around us, a cocoon.
It’s
not a blanket warmed
for
our comfort and ease,
our
protection and defense,
to
keep the cold away. No,
she
said, it is not that nor
any
of those things
we
think it is, we believe it is,
we
so desperately demand it is.
Rather,
she said,
it
is the cross.
Photograph by Tilen Hrovatic via Public
Domain Pictures. Used with permission.
And, I got chills reading this . . . Wow!
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