To the Cross we go,
A Nation hanging,
Lifted on the wood,
Drying up, exposed,
Blood drained
In a hemorrhage
Of its young.
Did you watch?
We’re you one
To wring your hands?
Were your hearts wrenched,
Or did you party
With the crowd
As the veil
Of the Temple
Was torn in two?
Suffer the Moment
Hoping with Love,
That the curtain,
Was split
From top to bottom,
That even now,
In the darkest hour
Of choice’s choosing,
When Herod has opened
Yet another womb,
Salvation is found in the Crucifixied.
God will shine through
The gaping Wound in His Side,
As God is want to do.
©2012 Joann Nelander All rights reserved
Joann Nelander Studio 