A Simple Poem

Desperation – desperation calls;
And I, a thief, respond,
Forgetting him who watches all,
I steal and despond.

I steal – I take from those I love,
From those I hate as well,
And then the watchman caches up;
I hear my own death knell.

I hear my death and then I see
Two beams of wood brought by,
And crossed to form my own death tree -
And I in sorrow cry.

I cry, but then, on looking up,
I see another come,
Whose brow by many thorns is cut:
My Lord – my God’s own son

“My Lord, you cannot take my tree,”
I say twixt stubborn cries
My Lord, he only looks at me
With kind and silent eyes

And then, without a word, he takes
Away my deathly load
And quietly, in agony
He travels Calvary’s road

And so I stand today before
The very throne of God
And doubt not for the things I stole
But rest in Jesus’ blood