If the Cross Could Talk

If The Cross Could Talk
Would it tell you how it was made
Every carving and cut that was placed
From top to bottom 
Side to side

Would it tell you how it felt
When a man was beat down
While carrying it to the hill
Falling upon it many times
Before reaching it's final destination
To be used for His own death

If The Cross Could Talk
Would it tell you how it felt
When His feet were impounded with nails
Crushing through the bones and veins 
The horrible sound
Never to be unheard

Would it tell you how it felt 
When His Hands were so brutally nailed
To the point of no return 
And the blood that ran down 
Soaking into each and every crevice 
That would be forever stained

If The Cross Could Talk
Would it tell you about The man
Who took His last breath...
Copyright © | Year Posted 2023

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Brewer Avatar
August 20, 2026 at 4:27 PM
Like you, I have pondered the thought of how all the elements of the crucifixion might feel if they had human qualities. Here are two of my related poems that came to mind.. I Always wondered if they could have, would they… Three unrelated elements brought together on one fateful day A tree was cut Trimmed and assembled To provide the horrendous cross Iron had been forged And formed by fire Into the required spikes A random thicket Provided the vines and thorns Cut and woven Into an ugly crown Three unrelated elements That helped torture And end a life That would one day Save the world.. And on that day They all …. ……wept -----AND---- Nature Defiled at Calvary The tree achingly ashamed of the horrific role It played The spikes begrudging every fraction of penetration with each impact The thorns trying with every ounce of resistance to alleviate the pain The lance wielded Desperate to avoid Its final path Forced to participate Nature wept And wrapped her sorrow In Darkness
Haywood Avatar
August 20, 2026 at 12:22 PM
As I read, I could envision the cross being chiseled and formed. As he was forced to carry his own cross, I could feel the weight and lashings. I could not only see his hands and feet being nailed into the cross, I saw His blood seep into the wood and congeal. He and His cross were one. And the cross knew His story. I couldn't write this withiout feeling it. Great poem! - Christopher Haywood
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