and whose burden shall I then bear?

“These stones are burdens.”  My pastor says.  She pauses and dramtically looks over the water.  The trees whisper about something or other far above me.  “VRROOOOOM” says a motor boat far away.  “Cast them into the lake,” her voice is gentle and sincere. 

You fool, I think, Don’t you realize how beautiful these stones are.  She sits down sincerely and people shuffle into line.  “Ker-plink,” says the first stone.  Its ripples spread out like Jewish people after a Babylonian invasion and eventually crash into a beach somewhere in mexico.

They keep us from floating into the sky. They keep us out of heaven.

There are many “Ker-plinks” now.  My sister doesn’t move though, nor does my friend the writer.

“Lay my burden down – My burden is all I have.” My sister whispers to me.  Her fist is clenched.  “After this do we get to cut off our feet as well.” 

“Why don’t we glue ours to our foreheads,” I say to her.  “Everyone can see them and congratulate us.”  I whisper back.  She has to bite down on her lips to keep from laughing. 

“Or,” she snorts a bit, “we could find a bunch more stones lying around and make a mosaic.”  The people sitting next to us glance over in disapproval. 

A loud chuckle escapes my lips and I cover my mouth and then  look around, unabashed. 

I will never be rid of it, I think.

“Never,” my sister says under her breath.

“Ker-plink” says my shiny black stone as it begins its peacefull descent to the bottom of the lake.

God damn peer pressure.

Their eyes burn me on my walk of shame – or it is triumph that I feel.

But where are all the palm leaves?

“You!”  The pastor’s eyes are angry and sincere. “You haven’t set your burden down.”  She glares harder.  “Set your god damn burden down”

~ by zimmermusic on June 19, 2008.