His arms outstretched on the wooden beam;
The Father's will to see it through.
In the soldiers' eyes an evil gleam,
Driving the nails into his hands - one, then two.
No sooner the third nail pierced his feet,
Then lifted up towards the sky.
The malice of man He did there meet,
But forgiveness was his cry.
"They know not what they do," He said,
As taunts and curses increased.
Though most of the crowd wished him dead,
He showed mercy to the least.
A model of love He gave that day
to all men on the earth.
Forgivness and hope - a better way,
Abundant life; full of mirth.
Too little we hear His cry today
in this age of blame and scorn.
"Remove that speck!" is easier to say
Than confronting the evil I've born.
Though I cannot read another's heart,
My own faults I know deep within.
So I'll echo His cry and seek a new start;
"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned."
God love you.