The Calvary Chronicle
Standing on a hill-three crosses
Signifying Roman shame.
From the left cross comes soft pleading,
From the right cross-scorn and blame.
In the middle, behold, Glory,
Hanging there upon a tree;
Bearing sin, though being sinless,
Bleeding, torn, in agony.
Down in front-a frenzied mocking;
"If you have the power to choose,
Then-come down-yourself deliver!
Prove you are the King of Jews!"
At the foot-a mother mourning
By her side-the Beloved John.
Looking down,Christ has compassion,
Whispering, "Mother, see thy son."
Darkening skies begin to thunder;
Shaking ground beneath the feet
Of the Roman soldiers standing,
Just beneath the mercy seat.
On the cross, the Savior speaking,
"It is finished!" is His cry.
Giving Father-God His spirit,
Jesus, the Messiah, dies.
Splitting ground and quaking hilltop;
Dead men seen about the night.
Frantic scurrying of the people,
Taking cover-filled with fright.
One Centurion weak with trembling
Calling on the Savior's name,
"Surely, this man was Messiah!
Surely, he has born our shame!"
Daylight breaking-three days later;
Women coming to the tomb
See the prophecy unfolding,
Christ, the first-fruit of death's womb.
Mary hears a stranger speaking.
"He is not among the dead.
Go and tell the one called Peter,
I have risen, as I said."
Glistening white-atop the steeple
Like a beacon in the night,
Standing tall-the cross of Jesus
Through 2000 years, its light
Offering hope for souls in darkness.
Painted, penned, and lifted high;
It remains a visual tribute
Til Christ splits the Eastern sky.
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