An innocent, but no ordinary man, was crucified by Rome.
At Calvary, His blood dripped down in infamy to save some.
No angel nor disciple nor His Father attempted to save him.
He volunteered to be pulverized as a slain lamb.
His executioners crushed His marred head with thorny crown.
Pilate desired His release, but Jewish blasphemers resisted.
The soldiers ripped into his fleshly torn back like black slaves.
They spit on him and buffeted his face without due respect.
They mercilessly nailed his hands and feet and pierced His side.
As he hung upon a tall tree, he began to suffocate and cry:
My God My God why have you deserted me?
His demise took hours of midair hanging on that rugged beam.
Blood trickled down his face and back, like slaughtered meat.
Even His death was foretold by the ancient prophets of old.
He fulfilled all scriptures, saying the Bible was written of me.
But He knew all along how and why His life would expire.
No greater love, nor greater sacrifice, man has never known.
But unless you drink of His blood and eat of His flesh:
You have no life in you. For His flesh is like heavenly manna,
His blood is like fresh wine; the Master calls, come and dine.
Darrel Venable
November 2022
Divinity Poetry 