Eyes brimful of heaven's glory,
Blinded now by the water and the blood.
Last sounds, a Father's sobbing,
First sounds, a mother's screaming.
Pushed and pulled, shaken and slapped.
Holy breath breathed out,
Foul stable air forced in.
From heaven born among us,
To die that all might live.
Son of God, the Holy One.
Blood Pressure. The New Numbers
6 years ago
No comments:
Post a Comment