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.