O mother of the Saviour of the world,
     Blesséd art thou, among all women blest,
For God Himselfe within thy womb was curl'd,
     And God Himselfe did suckle at thy brest;
And He that dy'd and rose and quitt the tomb
Blossom'd within thy house and there did bloom.

The firstborn fruit of God's inerrant seede,
     Press'd like a bunch of grapes beneathe His wrath
Untill the Man of Sorrowes sore did bleede
     And suffer more than any martyr hath,
Was offer'd vpp a sacrifice for mee
By Father God and, Mother Mary, thee.

Woman, behold thy Sonne, the glorifi'd,
     Transfigur'd Kinge of Heauen; lion, lamb,
Messiah, God and man who liu'd and died
     And liues againe for aye, and is I AM;
Like Abraham, the LORD did ask thy Sonne;
Like Abraham, thou saidst, Thy will be donne.

Christ on the cross was maximumly heroic:
He was braver than braves that slay goliath foes,
Or warriors facing deadly threats with stoic
And stony faces, standing nose to nose.  
At Golgotha the sin of all the world was laid
On Him who, though despised, was more victorious
Than a general at his own ticker-tape parade,
Thronged by a grateful nation joyous and uproarious.
Had Christ destroyed his enemies with a thought
(An option for Him), He would've suffered a defeat
Since all the lessons the Lord of Glory taught
Would've been dismissed as having been taught by a cheat.
It would've been the easy, cowardly fashion
Of escaping the pain that proved His Godly passion.

The Space—between two Seconds—
Is wider than the Sea—
Is smaller than an Atom—
Is all Eternity—

I slip into Forever
Between the tick and tock
Of ageless Time's forever unwinding
Chronoscopic Clock—

And there I see together—
In perfect Unity—
My Savior—ere and after—
His Birth and Calvary—

Was ever grief like Thine,
    Who finished, dregs and all,
The bitter cup of wine?
Was ever grief like Thine,
Who tasted of the vine
     Of the grapes of wrath and gall?
Never was grief like Thine,
    Who finished dregs and all.

In a foreign land,
over two thousand years ago,
there lived a man,
whom the world would come to know.

Raised out of Nazareth,
his humble place of birth,
tasked with spreading words of love,
and of peace throughout the Earth.

Many were his deeds,
and so timeless and true his word,
that he changed the shape of the world,
for those who saw and heard.

He challenged the authority,
of those who then held sway,
by telling common people that through his Father,
there lay a better way.

Challenged by his word,
and fearing influence on the wane,
by deceit and lie,
they sought to take control back again.

Despite his deeds and truth,
evident in what he taught,
by deception, lies and betrayal,
he was rounded up and caught.

In a trial that found no arguement,
to undermine what he had said,
he was sentenced to crucifixion,
nailed on a cross until he was dead.

I am sure you know the rest,
of how on the third day he did rise,
and you have seen our world still battling,
against the hate and all the lies.

On this very weekend, remember,
this man from long ago I beg,
for there is much more to this remembrance,
than the chocolate in your egg.

Why must love hurt so?

All you came to do
Was to save me.
You saw all of my afflictions
From up there, you seated
On your throne of eternal glory.
Beholding me, as a fragile one
Your compassion, you bestowed.

You couldn't leave me
Alone in my groaning.
I am your hand work,
And so you thought of saving me.
To redeem me unto you again, you came
Yes, you came down here for my salvation
Your compassion, you bestowed.

For many days you lived with me,
Dining and wining all years long.
You told me of many a thing about
Heavenly kingdom, where you came from
You told me great things to come also,
I was at peace knowing you
I was full with love so deep.

But then you told me you were leaving
Going on a journey faraway.
Going back home to where you came from,
To prepare a place for me, you said.
I had no idea what you meant,
Until they came, oh, they took you away
Away, right in front of me.

I was deeply troubled by what I saw
All because you love me, They wouldn't
Let you go, it's a sin to love the condemned.
Your pains from their whips,
Oh, I heard it all with my own ears.
Your sufferings did I witnessed,
With my own very eyes.

Still, you wouldn't give up on me
You looked at me, all I saw was love
But then, they screamed,
As a man possessed "to the cross"
Oh, why must love hurt so?
All because of me, you went through
A terrible ordeal.


At the cross, your feet and hands
They drove through with nails.
On your head, a thorny crown they present.
Mocked all day, you withstood it all
All for me, for my complete salvation
By your side a spear went through, your
Blood and water rushing out like many rivers.

To me you said, "it is finished" and lived
No more, you lived no more.
All I asked was "why must love hurt so?"
Your body to the ground
Your love to the grave
Your whole to be gone, in desolation
I remembered no word of you, how hopeless!

Two days gone by, there's nothing of you
Early third day morning, there's a rumor in town.
All my doors been shut, that there's
Nothing to life, but my neighbors won't
Stop knocking, whispering about.
I gave no attention, until I heard
"HE AROSE"

My bolt and nut, all swung lose
I'm going to the cross, to see the grave.
Your body I find not, nor your love in the mud
Unto me, my life returns
And my soul relieved.
Seeing you face to face, now I know
Why love hurt so.

It's been two thousand years,
But here we are again.
An innocent dark-skinned man
Was lynched,
And it engages and enlightens our world.

Let's not make this a habit.

And Pilate's here too,
Cowering in ******'s bunker,
Washing his tiny hands,
Blathering: I'm not Responsible.
That's what truth is.