Fortnight from now is Easter,
And I do not feel prepared
To go all the way to the mound.
All this time in the Lenten desert
I am no better in the deprivation.
I have not improved or progressed
But become more bitter in my hunger,
More angry in the heart.

I am better, Lord, when I am closer,
And You’re not apart from me,
You are with me in the people
On the road, in the town,
Who are asking for You whilst we point the way.

You are the people’s Christ, Lord.

I’ll find them in You and You in them.