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Behold - an Easter Poem

The perfect Lamb was lifted up

For the blind world to see.

So that all would come clean,

God was slain.

Running here and there

Lost sheep bleating and unaware.

His perfect blood runs down,

And falls on us, the guilty.

His eyes, won't you look?

His back, beaten

His arms, stretched out

Our fully given sacrifice.

Even the grave wasn't worthy,

Earthen rock

Cut from human hands

Held the God-body of this Man.

Behold The Broken Lamb.

Three days was enough

As life broke out from death.

So that we could awaken,

God left the grave.

There’s a way we remember

His offering to come in,

Poured from the cup of sacrifice.

Longing for communion, we eat, we drink.

Being fed Living Bread

Reveals unquenched famine—until now

A banquet in His Presence

Satisfies hunger deep.

Drinking of the cup,

His blood becomes our own

And we remember that we're crowned

In this union of Family.

A meal with the King

We sit now at favored place

And wonder, how can this be,

Rags brought to highest position.

Carried home forever

Ever kept and captivated

By the gaze of His eyes,

His face.

Behold Our Beautiful King.

Another Gift now given

So we're never left alone

God's Spirit fills,

Settles in, like Home.

Revealing and confirming

Moving and leading

Removing the darkness

Setting binding secrets free.

Mysterious and Holy,

Light, like a feather blowing,

Mighty, like electricity flowing,

God’s Wind filling Earth through you and me.

How can it be true,

God made flesh, given in Spirit

Cares for the lowly,

And He has come, to where we are!

Every lost sheep found, Behold Him!


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