On Grace and Good Friday…


On Grace:

Sometimes laughter is

the medicine best consumed

Removing any bitter pill

catching our fill of joy

hopefully by the bucket full

While we scratch and scrape to obliterate

The evidence of the empty


Other times there exists

this wish, this droaning desire

the brush fire of urgency

to unwind the vivid recall

that catches our fall

into this levity


we attempt,

we yearn to protect

this fragile sanity

casting shadows on the walls

of our iniquities

all the while struggling

refraining from peering

at that tree on Calvary


Could this be our undoing?

The unraveling of life’s

Guilt and selfishness

We have been pursuing this…

We the murder guilty

Hands crimson and stained..

Our eyes struggling to ignore it

Pulling our attention away

Yet discovering the end of our wit

Our wisdom, our inadequate understanding


Yet this heart,…

This shackled slave to self

 is crash landing

bailing out…expanding panic

I think I’ll be sick

As I find myself wading

Through my own filth

Which eclipses feeble strength

Within these tired hands

This vacant soul…

Hallowed and emptied out

I have lost control

Shattered, bits and pieces

Sharp and jagged

Course as no longer whole


And glancing once more

Rugged cross in view

Life’s blood is spilt

Redemption, salvation, new life

Comes Crashing through…yet I will not

Comprehend it… just yet

No, not yet…

For hell has to relinquish

Diminish in the world…in me…

Then three days  

Three gut wrenching, tear bursting

Sleep fleeting days…

To grave side

Torn pride, without guide

I will make my way

To mourn, to break again

But only then…only then

Will I meet nail shattered hands

Light from the cave of death

I will catch my breath,

I will catch His grace

And from His lips I will

Hear I love you, this…

This…was all for you.


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