the scent of roses

I wanted acceptance
instead I fell into the deep hole
of revelation

I desired love and
found poetry walking with my
cross heavy on my shoulders

I wrote poems and rolled away the stone
Jesus was weeping inside
bleeding at the thought of nails

angry with just cause I joined a group of saints
on a pilgrimage across the desert
of our humanity

we stopped at a well and here I saw myself
for the first time
thirsty and covered with ten thousand years

tears filled my absence