One Friday morn, a father was crying
His Son hung on a cross, painfully dying
The Jews taunted loudly, for all men to hear
Behind their teasing was deep pain and fear
Fear of what they might actually have done
Was that man hanging there really God’s Son?
Was this the Messiah, by prophets foretold
And why did the monring seem so bitter and cold
If this dying man, so human He seemed
Was really God’s Son, would they all be redeemed?
And if they had killed Him, what woudl they do?
For Yahweh’s heart would be broken in two
If that man’s teaching was to be belived,
then all was not lost and could be retrieved
Yes, if that was so, what that man said,
“Well, let’s leave it and see”, was what many said
All He’d predicted so far had come true
They found it all so uncanny, don’t you?
There were some strange things happened that day
The temple curtain being torn in that way
He’d been rather quiet, that man hanging there
You’d think He’d show anger, or even despair
And though nearly two thousand years have gone by
The world will remember that dying man’s cry
Yes, my friend, He’s still hanging there
For He is the Light in this world’s despair
Look toward the man hung on Calvary’s hill
You’ll find your soul healed if only you will
For although it’s there, the cross is not the end
It’s the start of a brand new life, my friend
If you can accept that man, so broken and so torn
In the love of the Risen Christ, you will be reborn
(c) Clare M Ashton, 1999