Thorns
By amlee
Sat, 23 Nov 2013
- 737 reads
3 comments
Can we sing of our injuries
of arrows borne in our hearts
when from dreams we are wrenched
and when loved ones depart
Can we laud a saint's calling to
home a holy thorn in his side
walk limping for a lifetime
as by hard faith he abides
Can we praise the cruel crown
impaled upon a brow, bearing
the pains of the ages and
the wrongs of the now
Each point of piercéd entry
wounding sweet godly flesh
draws His heart to our own hearts
till all are enmeshed in joined up
desolation, so we'd overcome
dark Death's rattling laughter
that could momentarily numb
our reason for living
the point of today
plunder oil of golden gladness
so blood hearts decay
into stoniness of sorrow
when all days merge into one
when God disappears
and we can't see His Son
But a Sweet Nightingale
impaled its breast upon a thorn
bled his life into white roses
till they are red by the morn
Can I sing then of my heartache
with my eyes upon the Cross
through tears see a broken body
that has borne all my loss
- Log in to post comments
Comments
Lovely. Perhaps an edit here
Lovely. Perhaps an edit here?:
"impaled it (its) breast upon a thorn"
- Log in to post comments
Your welcome Andre.