Notes About The Poem
Inspired by Coronavirus which my wife survived at Easter..
Crown
This viral curse that wears a crown.
that takes man's breath and lays him down,
that shuts his door,
his church, his town.
Heaven did not sling this bolt,
but patient waits for earth to halt,
and turn its eyes towards the hills,
towards the skies from where help comes,
from where help came when deeper curse was laid,
laid just on one man's frame.
That breath was also given up,
that chest compressed and pierced 'til fluid flowed
when head was bowed, then body bound
and laid in rich man’s tomb.
This rightful wearer of the crown still waits
to make this world his own.
Yet not with fearful covert crown,
but thorny crown for all to see,
high lifted on his mercy tree,
our saving mercy tree.
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