Poets Showcase
THE VISION FROM THE CROSS
The shadow of the cross
was spread out below Him,
Its arms stretching out…north,
south, east, and west,
As if trying to embrace
the world in entirety,
Encompassing all,
in His grace, at His rest.
As His eyes traveled down
on the masses that day,
Drawn to witness His death,
most with pleasure,
He could see past
their outward appearance
of evil,
And sacrifice all
for the sake of the treasure.
The treasure He saw
on that violent hillside,
Was the vision first born
on the dawn of creation,
That man would be joined
in a covenant union,
With the Godhead, together,
the birth of a nation.
As He looked to His right,
He witnessed repentance,
Brought forth in the heart
of a once-hardened soul,
And He knew that His mission
was finally completed;
For all generations,
He accomplished His goal.
Then He looked to His left,
and He grimaced with pain,
At the heart made of stone
that rejected His Word;
For him there would be
no room in His kingdom,
He chose his own ways,
even though he had heard.
With all of this drama
unfolding around Him,
Fulfillment of grace
was still first in His mind;
For He would return,
having conquered the darkness,
Return for those masses,
which once had been blind.
We are those masses
He died for that day,
As He hung on that cross,
and the day turned to night,
Now the question remains
to ask of yourself,
Which cross do you hang on,
the left or the right?
Copyright
2001 by Joy Kelly
All Rights Reserved
