Somber and steady up a tree-lined street
A stream of solemn soldier-ranks are led,
As sun-beams dance to the drummer’s beat
Filtering through the branches overhead
Beyond the tears and past the arc of trees
The music of a small child’s laughter swells
Stark contrast to the mourning infantry
Bowing beneath the tolling of the bells
Then, as the weeping bag-pipe song exalts
The melody of sweet Amazing Grace
Then, as the banner-covered coffin halts
For it has reached its final resting place
Then, as the last note fades the cannon flies
Its echo fills the air from shore to shore
Yet pales in the wake of a mother’s cries
“There is no ‘free’ in freedom anymore
Put down your banners,
lay down your guns
My sweet baby boy has
died
Tributes, salutes,
many battles won
Won’t bring him back”
she cried
“Take away all the
roses for nothing will be
Like it ever was
before
The price of freedom
is too hard for me
There is no ‘free’ in
freedom anymore”
Freedom (part two)
Upon Golgotha’s rocky skull-strewn trail
A teaming, screaming throng of hatred surged
Swarming around a form blood-bathed and pale
Upon a place called Calvary they converged
Wild, wild with rage wages hate’s vicious roar
No one remains to defend Love unbound
Stark contrast to the cheers and praise before
Where palm-tree branches waved and decked the ground
Then as the violent blows of steel on steel
Accentuates the horror on the hill
Then, as they drive in hatred nail by nail
Against Love’s cries of ‘Father, not My will’
Then, as they praised and raised Life’s blood-stained cross
In victory, death’s maddened thousands roar
As Mary, his mother weeps for her loss
“There is no ‘free’ in freedom anymore
Take away your
hammers, lay down your swords
My dear precious son
has died”
As the lightning
flashed and the thunder roared
There at His feet she
cried
“Take away all your
hatred, your jeers and chanting
For you have slain my
Lord
Take away all your
weapons and cease your ranting
There is no ‘free’ in
freedom anymore”
There is no ‘free’ in freedom, Love pays a price
Where hellish horrors run
There is no ‘free’ in freedom, its sacrifice
Save in Christ, is never done
There is no ‘free’ in freedom, red the river
That flows on its behalf
There is no 'free' in freedom; its signature
A blood-stained autograph
Janet Martin
No comments:
Post a Comment
I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!