I wait,

And time ticks past.

I gaze,

Made silent by the sight.

I watch,

As soldiers meticulously move

Executing each terrible, torturous task.

I gasp,

Still life lingers in His fragile, broken form.

I flinch,

As blow by blow,

Nails bite deep through flesh to find wood.

I stand

As He is lifted high,

Silhouetted 'gainst the sky which He has made.

I weep

As His cry echoes deep in my hardened, calloused heart.

I wail,

As He screams 'it is complete,

Finished, final, said and done.'

I fall,

As the sky turns inky black

And the sun and moon and stars forget to shine.

I kneel,

As worlds collide,

And time ticks by;

What once bound, no longer seems to hold.

I bow,

For part of me is gone,

Kept forever on Calvary's painful peak.

I wait,

At the foot of the cross, to begin my journey home.


Andy Stinson - April 2011