Scars on the Street

The scars on feet and hand,

Visible across the land.

Did people notice  scars on His feet,

As He walked on the cold stone street?

As He raised His hands  high

Did scars find one's searching 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.

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
1/21/16

A Purposed Death-# Sacrifice #Lent

A Purposed Death

A seed falls, earth embraces death,

Time passes, earth gives breath.

Seed lives, breaks free of earthly mass

Sun, rain, time, generations pass.

Branch, leaf, reach sunward,

Root goes deep, strength to keep.

The axe falls, death comes,

The knife shapes, post becomes.

Sinners hang, blood flows,

God comes, Word grows.

Tide turns, world spurns.

Sinless Word suspended,

Heavens gaze is ended.

Great I AM is blind,

His Logos unable to find.

Purity runs down,

Puddles on the ground.

Post with open pore,

Absorbs sin so sore.

Scar of axe, knife,

Bring end of strife.

Post, thought dead, now lives,

Upward, Sonward, life to give.

 



Lifted Up- #Lent #Sacrifice

Feet Near The Earth, Crowned Brow To The Skies,

God's Arms Outstretched Mankind's Savior Dies.

On The Death Post and Beam,

His Precious Life Blood Does Gleam.

Three Iron Spikes Hold In Place,

Spotless Lamb, Now Dirty Sacrificial Face.

Voice, Whispering, Cracking, Groaning,

Pouring Out Life, For Sinners Atoning.

Parched Throat, Dry Lips, Mercy Please,

Cheap Wine On Hyssop, Creator They Tease.

Deep Into The Heavens Does He Gaze,

Searching, Praying Father, Nothing But Haze.

Completion Of Redemption, He Cries,

Wounded, Bruised Head, He Bows, He Dies.

Cold, Granite-Like Men, Face Death,

Watch, Remark, Christ Of God Gasps, Last Breath.

Now, Their Hearts Hard As Stone,

Strangely Moved, Even Their Sin Atoned.

For They Have Watched Countless Die,

Limp, Lifeless Bodies, Suspended High.

Men, Now Close To Post And Beam,

Ugly Truth Transformed To Beauties Gleam.

TG/3/1/2011

Lent- A Time to Think and Evaluate

Close, Come to His Cross,

The Scene, His Life, Seem as Dross.

I Will Cherish the Old Rugged Cross

The Wood, The Blood,

Attack my Soul Like a flood.

I Want to Flee,

In His Visage, it is Me.

I Will Cling to the Old Rugged Cross

He Hangs in My Place,

Clothed in Disgrace.

His Head Bowed Low,

From Brokeness, Life does Flow.

I Will Cherish the Old Rugged Cross

His Eyes, Upon Me Gaze,

My Tears, My Vision does Haze.

The Death Post, I Again Come Near,

For My Need I See Clear.

I Will Cling to the Old Rugged Cross

My Hands, Soul, do Grip His Feet,

Souls Rejoice! For Salvation Sweet.

The Post, The Beam, That Raised Him High,

Transport All Beyond the Sky.

tg/2-11-01

"I Will Cling- I Will Cherish" The Old Rugged Cross-George Benard

Blessings to All.