Poem: “Behold the Wood of the Cross”


Behold the Wood of the Cross

I am the wood of the cross.
A lone, dead cross beam
I was chosen to be carried
                    On the scourged back of the
                    Savior of the World

Bruising, crushing, burying in the dirt,
                    Once, Twice, Three times
                    The Son of Man

Dead wood wrapped in dirt
“Remember man, you are dust and to dust you shall return”

Chosen again. Dragged to Calvary
A lifeless beam thrust upon the back of Simon of Cyrene

Yet embraced by Christ. My Christ
Who laid down his life
When he laid down on me.
Affixing himself to me
Nails: Three
                    Three nails piercing his Sacred Flesh
                    Boring into dry, dead hardness
                    Three nails securing the perfect union of Life to death

Four nail holes wounding Him. Four
                    Two pierced hands, two pierced feet: Flowing blood, pumping Life.
Precious Blood soaking, saturating, permeating life-less me: The cross, His cross
Transfused, I live. Dead wood no more.

Eve, reborn, I bear His holes in my hands, His hands on Earth.
Blessed are my feet, for His blood,
Wine, flows from His feet,
                    Into the holes he gave me.
                    Blessed are my feet for they carry the Gospel of Life
                    To dead wood.

Darkness covers the Earth. It is finished
Dead Wood, anxious
Pierces his Sacred Heart swollen with love.
Water washes over me: The dirt-stained cross
Blood gushes forth drowning my every pore.

Falernian wine, courses through me!
Precious Blood pumps through my body!
He overflows my veins!
Inebriated with salvation, I shout for joy!
We raise the dead!

By Stacy Peterson
August 26, 2011


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