An impossible burden is bearable,
an obstinate obstacle moved;
a sorrow is shortened and lightened,
a perfect day is improved;
the briefest sweet moment’s eternal,
transient joy multiplied;
you’ll not stay down when you’ve fallen,
you’ll quickly get back in your stride;
a difficult journey’s adventurous,
defeat is not always the end;
mistakes are things you will learn from,
you’ll turn round that negative trend;
an evil is simpler to bring down,
likewise a village defend;
battle scars heal so much cleaner
when all these are shared with a friend.
The most innocent of all of us was ruthlessly betrayed
Publicly humiliated, tortured, torn and flayed
Forced up a hill to be upon it gruesomely displayed,
Yet most distressing was the message that this act conveyed.
It wasn’t because he was weak that this could all occur,
In fact he with this horrifying treatment did concur;
He had a throng of angels at his very back and call,
Yet told them to stand down and let him undergo it all.
Even when abandoned by his closest friends and kin,
Even when guards beat and mocked him with malicious grins,
Even when the shards of bone dug deep well past his skin,
Even when they laid him down and drove the nails in,
Even when exposed for hours in the burning sun,
Even when it looked as if his work had been undone,
Even when the powerful sneered and hurled insults his way,
Even when his loving Father had to look away,
He accepted every injury, permitted every slight,
Submitted to each sinful man’s full rage against the light.
Not once did he protest or use his ample lordly might,
Since this was how he paid the price so things could be put right.
This is one of the first songs I ever wrote, with a very simple haunting guitar accompaniment (stretching my very poor guitar skills to the limit). I was sure I had it written down somewhere but couldn’t find it, so have reconstructed it from what I remember. It is about Good Friday, which is today. If I can get them finished in time, I hope to have a poem about Easter Saturday up tomorrow, and one about Easter Sunday the day after, we’ll see how that goes. Continue reading
God’s not afraid of dirt, God’s not afraid of pain,
God’s not afraid of spoiled brats who try to shift the blame.
God’s not afraid of broken glass or broken hearts or dreams,
Or even when reality is not what it first seems. Continue reading