A-Poem-a-Day Until Resurrection Day
ACCUSTOMED TO THE
CROSS
I’m
accustomed to the Cross.
I’ve
seen it since childhood
gleaming
high atop steeples,
crucifixes
behind altar rails,
on
hospital walls,
on
bedroom walls,
depicted
in framed masterpieces,
depicted
in sculpted masterpieces,
described
in written masterpieces,
marking
graves in cemeteries,
illustrated
in holy books,
affixed
to lapels,
tattooed
on forearms,
hanging
silver and golden
and
studded with diamonds
and
sapphires from the necks
of
men, women, children—
hanging,
hanging on my mind.
So
accustomed, yet
sometimes
it is everywhere
and
I don’t see it at all.
Today
I see it afresh
sturdy
and wooden and terrifying
through
Good Friday eyes
that
send streams down my cheeks
as
blood streams from His wounds.
I
shudder,
mindful
of the Man
dying
upon the beams
and
the reason He is there—
Shudder
at
the horror of it, Jesus my Lamb,
at
the magnitude of it, Jesus my King,
at
the love upon it, Jesus my Friend,
and
my gratitude for it,
O
Blessed Jesus,
my
precious Lord and Savior
Who
by His Death
and
Resurrection
purchased
eternal life…for me.
Maude
Carolan
Here's a photo of my book,
"Behold the Lamb...poetically!"
on the shelf at Barnes & Noble, Woodland Park, NJ.
No comments:
Post a Comment