Behold the Man the world awaited
Condemned, rebuked, cursed and hated.
Hanging bare, bruised, splintered, drained,
Limp and lifeless, pierced and stained.
After endless hours nailed,
Eternal isolation wailed.
It seemed that He had called in vain
The One who understood His pain.
His back was turned. No comfort found.
What loving Father bears the sound?
The ancient pain of Abraham
spared by providential ram,
The Father on Himself has taken—
Jesus Christ was not forsaken.
He carried it to full completion
All-inclusive, no deletion.
A fellowship of holy love
shared for ages there above—
The Son’s obedient submission
to His Father’s pure volition
The Holy Spirit’s loving mission
to save us all from our condition.
Our triune God has borne our pain,
which no other could contain.
Hear the words of God’s own Son:
I and the Father are one.
About the Creator
Tim Dienes
self-published my first book in recent years
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More stories from Tim Dienes and writers in Poets and other communities.
Water Lily
On the glassy pond Quiet, pure, simple beauty Perfect symmetry
By Tim Dienesabout a year ago in Poets
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By Lukman Abdulwasiu7 days ago in Poets
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My life is splashing before my eyes, as I precariously suspend and prepare for the end, the consumption of my Self and identity. I know that gravity will be the victor in this struggle. Like a pendant, slipping from the chain, the tension has caught me in this moment, bestowing one last gift of reflection. I cling desperately, questioning my purpose. Searching for comfort. And I remember…
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