The Cross

there stands a tree
were a mighty warrior was slain
put down
with a crown of thorns apon his head
the people cried not murder
but tyranny
blood drops
shed like tears
satisfy the thirsty earth
with its sweetness
it washes the people's murderous hearts clean
with its fiery red
it has set them free
a man died
on that tree so beautiful
and yet so cursed
his eyes searched you
for the love he knew was rooted deep within
all the while saying, "Forgive them, Father,
for I love them"
oh that tree
the center beam of that tree
proclaimed his holiness
and the crossbean declared his love
his arms stretched out
beckoning,
waiting
to embrace you.
arms of love
amazing grace
how sweet the sound
of his dying breath
that brought you life