This summer heat is searing my brain
Are these thoughts mine or mirages?
Is there anyway to tell
If I’ve fallen or if I’ve failed
When Jesus was born in Bethlehem
Among the horses and the lamb
He was born to die for us
Placed upon that splintered cross
Watch for Judas’s swinging feet
Hanging from the hanging tree
There’s a Judas inside all of us
Putting the Sacrifice upon the cross
Poor Thomas is full of doubt
Adding up to an absurd amount
We doubt that which we can’t see
As Jesus hung upon a tree
Upon our hands there is the Blood
Washed unto us like the flood
The denials in which Peter proposed
Cling to us and to our clothes
Stand up and loose your head
In the spot where others bled
Watch the heads fall to the floor
Like John the Baptist’s did before
On the ground there’s a bag of gold
That’s how much for which Jesus was sold
With Judas and his swinging shadow
How much will it cost to bring you woe?
What if when we denied a rooster crowed
How many times before I know
The blood that was shed upon the tree
Was grace being thrust upon me?
Tags: cross, faith, God, Jesus, Judas, Peter, poem, poetry, Thomas, tree
August 7, 2008 at 5:28 pm |
Hey – I really liked this poem. Loved the great biblical images and the comparisons of their failures to ours. Very profound.
August 7, 2008 at 6:06 pm |
thanks. i didn’t realize that was your blog site i had been wondering where yours was. it’ll be good to have you and shaun back. this site is a lot less popular than my johnnyism site, but just as profound me thinks.
January 21, 2009 at 5:03 pm |
One of my old AIM screen names is ProfoundWire.