YOU THOUGHT OF ME
With every wicked word they cast on you,
You stood in silence,
your thoughts on me.
In every flesh-tearing sting of a whip meant for me,
each crushing blow of the rod rightfully mine,
beyond the painful torment,
you thought of me.
Each drop you bled under my crown of thorns,
each agonizing step
you struggled to drag my cross
and when one more step you could not take,
you thought of me.
You willingly climbed upon my cross
and pictured my face
as they drove each nail.
Every pain-filled scream declaring your love,
Each disgrace endured to remove my shame,
and in the silent stillness of a tomb,
you thought of me.
Meeting the dawn of Easter morn
You rose to shut death’s ominous door.
Strolling away from the grave’s embrace
A heavenly smile.
A victorious stride.
Your eyes gleaming with eternal love’s light
and your thoughts are of me.
Maureen Profeta
1 comment:
What a beautiful poem Maureen!
I enjoyed it a lot.
Megan V.
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