My main site can be seen at www.ganderpoems.org Thank you! Enjoy! ~louis
Showing posts with label chest. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chest. Show all posts

Monday, August 6, 2012

Everlasting Tears 8-6-12


With sadness in His furrowed face,
with sorrow in His eyes,
with stench of blood and streaming sweat
with death heard in His cries -
could we not tell, when grimaced He,
in pain we couldn't hear,
in anguish so, He couldn't hold
that first initial tear?

From One so pure and innocent,
from One who suffered loss,
was One who sacrificed for us
on such a wicked cross,
where one tear found an opening,
accompanied by more -
to open up the floodgates there,
as never seen before.

But were the tears that Jesus shed
from just the pain He bore?
Or were the tears that soaked His face
from something even more?
They were not tears of happiness,
or stirred up tears of joy.
They were not tears of anger's rage
or tears that would destroy.

His tears were mixed with sweat and blood
that poured down from His face,
then dripped upon His heaving chest
and quickened to a place -
a place where burdens rested,
a place so torn apart,
but place sincere and sacred too -
His heavy laden heart.

A mother knows the pain of love
when children disobey.
She'll cry for hours, days and weeks.
There is no other way -
no other way to share her tears
than blend them in a prayer,
and send them up to Jesus where,
they mix with His tears there.

So take a look at Jesus' tears
and do they not comprise,
of grace and vast eternal love
just like a mother's eyes?
Produce a single tear, can I,
acknowledging my years,
that Jesus sacrificed for me,
in everlasting tears?

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Tuesday, January 11, 2011

The Strongest Man 1-11-11


When we are asked, "Who's stronger?"
we think so 'physical'.
We often think of Sampson -
not strength within the skull.

The strongest Man who ever lived -
had not a fist fight won -
but He had conquered challenges
and never quit 'til done.

He handled every mocking
and hateful, slimy spit.
He handled every whipping
while skin from scourging split.

Stronger was the 'weaker' Man,
who walked a lonely road.
Wearing thorns, they mocked Him and,
collapsed He, under load.

Huge nails set His hands and feet,
while teeth were tightly grit -
but never had He wavered.
He never once had quit.

Screams may echo over hills,
against the stormy skies -
but stronger is the faithful Man -
despite His painful cries.

Many brag and pound their chest -
their muscles, we can see -
but where you hear the loudest cry,
the strongest Man will be.

©2011 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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