Wilderness words: The end of shame

So, why do you come here in your sack cloth and ashes?

What do you hope for here in the wilderness where the jackals of self-accusation roam?

Did shame whisper in your ear and insist on your attendance?

Was that it? Did shame insist on all this?

Do you, in fact, arrive in self-made clothes of guilt?

And what punishment must be given, here in the wilderness, where the jackals snarl, to make the trip worthwhile?

The punishment must hurt; it must harm you suitably and savagely. For how else will the worthless learn?

‘Stop crying – or I’ll really give you something to cry about!’

Though as I watch, and I watch closely, (it’s what I do) I only see you lifted up and hugged.

Scooped up and loved in the wilderness.

Who’d have thought?

And shame without voice.

And twisted shame quite without voice.

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