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Apr 2
Just a third of a bushel o' wheat
Washed and drained to dry in sunlight
Nine to three is the intense heat
Lifting on his left shoulder plate
He cried, Lord what a deadly weight
Laser look beams on mental screen
The via Dolorosa slate
The fall on the third station scene

Under weight of wheat, gleaned and clean
Tobe dried, ground, battered with yeast
The staggered steps to sunroof lean
Yet Lo!  On the last night feast
Lowering Himself to the least
Offered Himself as living bread
The weight of wheat thought got released
As the promise gained over head

Its all to be a little Christ
To keep the life treasure unpriced
Written by
Philipp K J  53/M/Bangalore
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