On A Hill
On a hill far away
stood an old, rugged cross.
Sadly, blood stains it bore.
Assaulted by the breezes,
it yearned for the forest
and felt shame to its’ core.
It shuddered
in horror
for its’ Creator adored.
On a hill, come what may,
wood was used but at loss …
why had it borne This Man?
The base of it crumbled,
the cross downward stumbled
splintering over the land.
Forgiven
its’ spirit
dwells in His forest e’ermore.
Now the hill knelt to pray
as its’ dirt caved away ...
knowing God takes guilt away.
copyright 2009 Sandra S. Corona
"An Artistic Appreciation of Jesus: Volume 2"
Share
Print
Save
Follow
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. ;D
Be always safe,
Karen