You said that you would serve me,
the cleansing water poured
though I could not deserve it—
but wash me now, O Lord.
While you awaited Judas,
I laid me down and slept,
but I have heard the rooster,
and bitterly I wept.
For I have failed my tempting;
my own heart I denied,
and now my nets are empty,
though I have fished all night.
You call out from the shoreline
beyond the night of grief.
I plunge into the ocean
let it wash me clean.
You ask me if I love you;
you ask it yet again.
Three times your ask it of me,
as you foretold my sin.
And three times I have answered,
and will a thousand more
through all the years advancing:
You know I love you, Lord.
Kate Bluett 