Thursday, August 18, 2016

in my arms you bled

I was told
To take your body
And dispose of it
How could I know
That it was empty
Of your spirit
You were condemned
Your flesh was vacant
And life had fled
I looked at the blood
That you shed
I put my finger there
Where the nails
Were punched through
You did not despair
And the crowd
Had dispersed
Without a sound
But grieving
Excepting those who
Haven't reverence
For the dead
From your thorn crown
Tears of red
Were pouring down
Where there was
The lance wound
In your side
That is
Where MY lance
I pierced your ribs
I cut into your viscera
I listened to your stopped heart
To make sure you were dead
They said
The tomb was emptied
And then
They said
You were seen
By those who
Were your disciples
I believe
And I have to ask
For forgiveness
For killing you
Because I know
That you must be
The son of God
I am less than a man
I am a sinner
My sins caused you to die
And you are alive
You are life