Tuesday, April 19, 2016

An Ode Upon the Cross

An Ode upon the Cross

O end of ends, so nailed to free, through holes
Made holy, for on thee was hung for me
My savior Christ. O limitations, once
Of violence shown, eliminated now,
Forever so. O symbol standing tall,
Still hung on every church's wall, on thee
We see the face we face in hopes and dreams,
Yet though it seems we own the face we share
To each assembled there, but those not here
Outside, beyond our race or binding creeds,
Who grow from other seeds and strands, can stand:
They have no need to fear, for what they face 
In their own space of dreams beyond the seaming
Does brightly beam as well. O intersect
In timber laid, do for our brokenness
Make whole, inside ourselves; beyond the bounds
Connect harmonic dissonant sounds, so we
Despite division see, his broken body 
Mended be, beyond the empty words we speak
To actuality. O tree give life,
Outpour thy fruit, to nourish us. O Love,
Ironic, pain and pleasure, joined, combined,
We try to separate; we fight; we push,
But may we fail in doing our desire,
And let the fire keep burning in our soul.
O altar of His sacrifice at once 
Suffice to kill our hiding fears, which seek
To pass, to blame, to sneak away and place
Another in our place, and let us both
Lift up our face and see the rising Son.
O Cross that never was the end, may we,
Ourselves, just like our friend, lift you up high, 
And shoulder through to do what we are called 
To do and be what we are made to be.