His Yoke (poem)

Phyllis Beveridge Nissila


His Yoke

Some say we bend the neck

to the yoke of Christ,

but I think He bends to us.


Like a wedding gown

fit to the body,

not the body to the gown;

like a crown

fit to the head,

not the head fit to the crown;


like His cross fit for the sinner

not the sinner for the cross.


For this is like Him,

meek and low,

yoked near, breath close,

come to us below.


And when our field

is harvested,

the oxen gone to barn,

(and loosed as well, our yoke)

we’ll rise arm in arm,

both knowing now as known,

swift at last to rest,

swift at last to home.


 Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls

For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. (Matthew 11:29-30)





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