Stones

I walked by the glasshouse Everything bad was quite apparent I felt the stones in my pocket That I thought I should throw But then I felt them spike my feet I was reminded from whence I came The rock reproved me- Are you so pure? You- who were born from the dust You -whom worms shall eat I held my hand over my heart and my mouth And I cried - for I recognized the rocky road Upon which my Saviors feet did stride I saw the pain and His bleeding feet I saw the nail prints in His hands And His wounded side Then I realized something quite profound It was not the nails that kept Him there Bleeding out His life blood For ALL But the ache that was in His heart The pain of love - kept Him there- I repented so deeply For I understood That it was He that has washed away my guilt For I am forgiven - freely And freely as I have received I must too - freely give and feel the stones too Under my feet. © Brenda V Northeast 25/02/2012