Tear-worthy

Stirred by the wounds You wore, my Lord and bore on my behalf
Because I was part of the crowd; Loud, proud, I jeered-leered-laughed

While You in gruesome horror hung in grueling agony
‘Til the last breath of life was wrung from You, my Lord, for me

You groaned beneath the thorny crown pressed hard upon Your head
Where death’s deliverance poured down until the ground was red

…and though I’ve wept, “Lord, I believe, now help my unbelief”
And though I love you, oh my Lord, of sinners I am chief

…for oft-times I’m still such a jerk and blind, as blind can be
More dedicated to my work and play, my Lord, than Thee

And then I weep, Jesus, I weep ; You knew the full extent
Of promises I would not keep, still, to the cross You went

And staggered up the skull-strewn slope beneath the awful weight
Not of the wooden cross-shaped Hope, but of ignorant hate

“Forgive them for they do not know” oh Lord, my Lord, You cried
As we slammed nails into your hands and spears into your side

And though wrongly accused, My Lord you answered not a word
But naked, torn and bruised You bore the sins of the whole world

...stirred by the scars You wear my Lord, because of Calvary
Where now Heaven is my reward through what You did for me

...so then I weep; without You I’m unworthy to the core
..But, because of You someday I will live forevermore

© Janet Martin

This poem was a finalist in the March 2018 poetry contest