A drifting cool fog
hanging in the air
Landing in dew drops
on a worn, soiled pair
of sandaled footsteps behind soldiers trudge
Willingly
Forcefully...
prodded on by love.
Moon and small horizon light
to mark the path of pain
Crowd of angry passersby
Shouting curses at his name....
Hiding friends and family
teary....broken......shamed.
Peeking out and hoping
He would
Rally,
Conquer,
Reign.
His feet bloody, broken,
His arms heavy, bent-
Back groans to carry hard lumber in his skin.
Teary eyes follow from a mother full of fear-
Wondering, waiting, watching while he falls
again
and again.
A day full of darkness as he struggles with every breath
Hanging in front of mockers...fearing separation, but not death.
A perfect, holy sacrifice-
A man with blood to spill,
who thirsts-
who aches-
who is innocent
who touches, sees and feels...
An earthquake and it is finished.
His body sighs and sags.
The Savior, My Jesus,
held by nails and dressed in rags.
The curtain torn, the veil removed, the battle up above
is raging, is violent,
and is conquered with His love.
No comments:
Post a Comment