Did people notice the scars on His feet,
As He walked with them on the cold stone street?
As He raised His hands up high
Did scars on His hands catch an eye?
Did His brow show signs of thorn,
A cruel crown this King had borne?
For now, He is cloaked in Light,
He did cry, It is over, I've won the fight.
The scars on His feet and hand,
Visible for all across the land.
Transformed from signs of hate,
Scars will embrace as we pass His gate.
The hatred of men, shown one day,
In His kingdom banished, forever away.
tg 4/12/12
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