Who Do You Say That I Am…

Well, Jesus, who do I say that you are? I think that I’ve got a bit of an idea of who you are by knowing who I am a bit better and through some of the experiences I have had.

I think I now know how it feels to be loved and adored and well taken care of by the same people who will later betray me.

I think that I know that I’ll be provided for in back alleyways and be taken in by fishermen and fools.

I’m not really sure who you are, completely, and that’s fine by me, too. But I know that you’re the one who would eat with me now, even though I ain’t one of the “better” people on this earth according to those around me.

I don’t have much. No fame. No fortune. Just a love of you and the call placed in my heart and the knowledge that somehow you’re always there to eat with me and the harlot and the tax collector and the fool and the fisherman and the Pharisee.

And that is who you are.

Cosmic Lover.
Cosmic Brother.
All knowing and seeing Parent.
My heart of Hearts.
My Beloved.

And that I am
Your Beloved.
Your Sister.
My name etched on your heart.