The Relic of the True Cross
I saw you today,
You tiny speck.
Small though you are,
You are astounding to see,
Resting in your reliquary.
I gazed upon you,
Expecting some miracle,
To happen, then and there,
And to me.
Tiny you are in your resting place.
Blessed by Him who touched your face.
He whose sweat and blood you drank.
Him whose flesh clung to you.
Do you know what you bore witness to?
Did you sense His agony?
Did you feel His life ebbing away?
Did you hear His last cry that day?
Did He sag against your face?
Did you witness Mary’s embrace?
Was her cry mournful deep?
Or was she silent and bathed in weep?
You know, you know,
You are the tree,
That my Lord Jesus,
Hung from for me.
The suffering you witnessed,
Was all for me.
So that I might have life,
Life in Him, and Him in me.
If I could infuse in me,
The grief you have seen.
I know, I know,
I would be a better me.
Allow me again to gaze upon you.
To know and remember,
That you were there.
When Jesus suffered and died for me.
6-19-14
L. Lapiz
