His feet* – they walked upon the waters of untarnished truth,

His knees – kneeled to no man for He was a King amongst mortal men,

His legs – always journeyed to the valley overflowing with warm wishes,

His body – was the embodiment of all that is rich and wholesome,

His arms – embraced both me, you, him and her, young, old, black or white,

His fingers – as smooth and supple as the skies before summer’s soft rains,

His neck – lifted high not in pride or anger, only tilted upwards towards the Beloved,

His lips – spoke yesterday, to me today and to you tomorrow, to all everywhere,

His nose – inhaled the scent of newly born flowers on the eve of Spring of yesteryear,

His eyes – saw the miracle of life, and sleeping death held no fear or dominion,

His hair – every strand curled to form a heavenly glowing crown upon His head,

His message – it will live and sing longer than the executioner’s silent song,

His love – is the lyric of this life, it is life everlasting and in it lives our Lord.