The Cross

The Story is of Love

The pathway up the hill
is love.

The crying out to heaven
is love.

He faced the cave of darkness,
utterly,
for this is why he came:
his heart was filled with terror,
with disgust,-
for this was why he came:

WHO IS THIS FLESH
upon a
cross,
spattered and injected,
scourged now with promises of
ecstasy

Many
sins
have
been
forgiven
Us

Justify,
align again,
line up beside and towards,
get hearts in Love’s true order,
heal torn ligaments in our disjointed hearts.

‘This world’
for John
was less a place
and more an attitude
of life, (non-life)
‘I will not serve!’:

He
breathed then his last,
his all was handed over;
and then,
that selfsame
moment,

What Crazy God would do
such crazy thing
as, knowing what would come, still
sent a Son
to those who in their time

Niagara
of joy
awaits our opening up

to God who floods
the thirsting hearts
with love.

What a way to be,
in life!-
Open vessel to receive
the Abba-love of God,
poured out with,
Oh, such lavishness:

Against the Cataclysmic
turmoil
of all ages,
the darkened sky,
earth shaking with
its violence,

‘What kind of clown is this
who came into our tent,
made home of it,
and played his games
among us?