by Emily Susan Ward

Underneath the splintered beam
Broken, flogged and bleeding
A Man, full of Love and Grace
Has been punished for the Masses

Cobblestones rush quickly up
Meeting the face of the Beloved
With the force of a universe
The Creator cannot rise from the created

One of the crowd is called in
By the centurion guarding his prey
To walk alongside the Holy of Holies
And assist Him to His death

Behind the Morningstar he stands
Whole above the broken Man
Reaching down he places the cross
Upon his shoulders strong

Unknown to this strong man
His strength is worth nothing
As he helps this One condemned
To become the curse of the world

Mounting the hill to Golgotha
Gravity acts it’s part, and blood
Strikes the hands of the helper
And his face alters with Grace

An unknown play is being acted out
And he is being called to his cue
Ordained since time began
That he should shoulder this burden

Reaching the top of the hill
The Man is allowed to fall
Exhaustion and peace mingle together
On the face of the Dayspring

Set high as a standard, His body breaks
And the strong man is taken away
Weeping and wailing for his sin
He has the blood of the sinless on his hands

He turns back once more to see
The Face of the one he has killed
And sees there a revelation
That one and all will soon behold

His hands have before been covered
By blood and gore as they are now
When he slaughtered the Lamb
Before the priest in the temple

The blood is not the reminder
That the death of God is on his hands
It is the removal of the sin, and a symbol
That mankind has finally been freed