And immediately, while he was still speaking, the rooster crowd. And the Lord turned and looked at Peter. And Peter remembered . . . Luke 22:60b-61a
The deed is done, the words said—
Those words, crowding my mouth, clamoring to get out,
and where did they come from? What secret sniveling ghost of my heart chose that moment to break out,
Deck itself in phony outrage and deny, deny, deny?
Or could that be the real me, turned inside out, a pocketed pimp exposed in his quivering skin, who will sell out—
NO! When I said it, it was true: “I’ll go with you anywhere,
even to death.” And you said—
And you turned—
And you looked—
Oh, that look, that spears me like a fish,
That pins me to me, and to you,
That burnishes the bond between us,
That lets me know you will never let go.
in qualm or quiet, in doubt and death, in courage and cravenness,
Oh Jesus, please look at me.
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