On being asked to write an Easter Poem for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
What a sight it must have been
To see the Saviour die.
Those loving hands that made the poles
Now pierced, hard nailed and full of holes.
His flesh, that earthly garment worn,
Now bleeding, ripped and sorely torn.
Such a sight
Enough to make all nature shrink,
His footstool tremble and the sun to blink.
Humbled for man on a wooden cross
Sheeding his blood to redeem their loss.
Dare I, dare I, dare I look
Upon his mother's face and catch her eye?
She, who bore true image of his father thus,
Now watching him die to ransom us.
O G-d, O Saviour hanging there for me,
Burn thar sight on my memory.
And in so doing
Restore again to man that place
Where they may see him face to face.
~~~
British Bill © 2003
~~~
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