I know that I always write my own pieces, but I had to share this poem. It was printed in J. Vernon McGee’s book; entitled “Who is God?” But he is not the author of the poem. These are lyrics by a writer named Phil Keaggy.
The Maker of the universe,
as man, for man, was made a curse.
The claims of law which He had made,
unto the uttermost He paid.
His holy fingers made the bough
which grew the thorns that crowned His brow.
The nails that pierced His hands were mined
in secret places He designed.
He made the forest whence there sprung
the tree on which His body hung.
He died upon a cross of wood
yet made the hill on which it stood.
The sky that darkened o’er His head,
by Him above the earth was spread.
The sun that hid Him from God’s face,
by His decree was poised in space.
The spear that spilled His precious blood
was tempered in the fires of God.
The grave in which His form was laid
was hewn in rocks His hands had made.
The throne on which He now appears
was His from everlasting years.
But a new glory crowns His brow,
and every knee to Him shall bow.
as man, for man, was made a curse.
The claims of law which He had made,
unto the uttermost He paid.
His holy fingers made the bough
which grew the thorns that crowned His brow.
The nails that pierced His hands were mined
in secret places He designed.
He made the forest whence there sprung
the tree on which His body hung.
He died upon a cross of wood
yet made the hill on which it stood.
The sky that darkened o’er His head,
by Him above the earth was spread.
The sun that hid Him from God’s face,
by His decree was poised in space.
The spear that spilled His precious blood
was tempered in the fires of God.
The grave in which His form was laid
was hewn in rocks His hands had made.
The throne on which He now appears
was His from everlasting years.
But a new glory crowns His brow,
and every knee to Him shall bow.
~~~Phil Keaggy~~~
No comments:
Post a Comment