Sunday Contemplation
Severity of the nails anchored through Christ’s palms.
Oil dabbed on mine - revelation of His gentleness.
Stinging tears that swelled a Savior’s face.
Mine — bright-eyed peaceful countenance.
My knees drop like the heavy cross into its plot.
The bruise to my knees inconsequential.
The thankful beating of my heart —
praising the King of kings perpetually.
6/2/2019
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