...first I was going to call this an Easter Poem but
This is not an 'Easter' poem,
It is an every-day-of-our-lives poem
Look, look at the cross, no, no don’t look away
See love's sacred offering on gruesome display
See the thorns, wicked thorns so humbly worn
By the One who loved all; All the sick and forlorn,
The foolish, the wealthy, all those who would scorn
His dear name; so look at the cross on public display,
Not in some dark corner tucked dimly away
But up on a hill for the whole world to see
Perfect love, awesome love for you and me
Look, look at the cross, at the dear Lord’s face
Bearing the shame of public disgrace,
A face that was spat on, yet knew only love,
The face of a King from a kingdom above,
A face which has power earth and heaven to move
In a whisper; yet on it flow crimson tears
As He weeps, not in pain but in love so sincere
He calls out to His father from upon this tree
The symbol of hope for humanity
Look, look at the cross, at the hands that are bleeding,
Pierced through with nails and yet He is pleading
That man will find mercy in this holy flood,
Forgiveness and hope in a perfect Lamb's blood,
Redemption pouring from the Son of God
His hands stretch out for all to see
That this is He who sets men free
Hands that ministered to man’s most humble need
Have fulfilled their greatest work indeed
So look at the cross, behold the Lamb
The beginning, the end, the Great I AM
Look at his body, pierced and bleeding
Love flowing down for all who are needing
The hope of a Savior, as still He is pleading
Forgive them; and as darkness and thunder descend
His cry is heard through all the land
‘It is finished,” and now there is hope for the lost
If we look at the cross, if we look at the cross...
...and if we look at the cross, at the out-stretched limb,
Behold the blood and the suffering,
If we gaze on His love and the wonder of Him,
Will we think to be saved on that final Day
If we look, turn our backs and walk away?
Janet Martin
Shall I crucify your King? Pilate asked. John 19:15
