Jesus, both the simplest of words and the most poetic of expressions
Are all stretched to the limit when trying to say something new about you
our secret places, our souls are filled with your story
-your cross, but somewhere in a corner something lost is shining
We get used to you, you become part of the furniture
God,
how can be there so huge a sacrifice but hell is still not empty?
but then, what is sin?
has it breadth, depth, length and height?
but then, what is love?
has it power, limits, borders?
but, who is the man you don’t turn away even though he despises you?
but you, where are you?
when you see he has strength to oppose you, to reject to deny you?
God, with such freedom man gets confused,
so many extras yet he remains so Eden-Naked
we need clothes but what you have given are tattered
clothe us, so we can worship your victory.
for that we need to be called again, to be called out
from sin, from resignation, from ourselves
to your cross,
into your footsteps,
into your peace.
