The Cross beckoned
"Come to Me, all who are sorrowful and suffering."
I crawled beneath, gazed at Thy Holy Face
battered and bruised, tangled blood-clotted waves
of Thy hair streaming in the bitter wind.
I peered into eyes filled with love and pain.
Bloody tears rained their sorrow upon this proud head.
"Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit."
I kneeled beneath Thy pierced side
Blood and water poured down on me
I drowned in a sea of mercy.
The veil in the Temple split in two.
And I, crippled
Entered the gate
called....
The Beautiful
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Mary this is not only beautful but very powerful......:-) Hugs
ReplyDeleteThank you, Bernie. In a mystical way, this is the story of my conversion. Sometimes poetry helps me express what I cannot put into words in my regular writing. Hugs to you, too :)
ReplyDelete