Spirits behind bars

Take a shopping precinct in any town and you will see them.
Bustling to do the shopping they rush around.
But in their eyes I see a different scene.
Bars behind the eyes and a spirit trying to get out.

It cries.
It yearns to be free,
but only more fettered it becomes.
Hemmed in by worry.
Chained by hate.
Barred by  non-acceptance.

The spirit that is put in all of us pleas at its cell window.
The window on life.
The window that shows what bars its escape.
It longs to be free and free it can be.
But a change of heart is needed.
An intentional change by the will.

It sees all the wrongs.
All the pressures.
All the evidence.
The will takes this and makes its decisions.
It refuses to accept what  has been
done for it by someone it has never met.

But he died all the same.
A man who was different.
He lived long ago,
but his words are directed to you now.
Take him at his word and
free your spirit will be.
To fly and live with him.

Once I was one of these people. Whatever I thought of Jesus at the time the facts remained the same. What he did remained the same. What needed to change was me.

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