Poetry

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In the Lover loving,
  He made Him like the loved one.
Then into the fire running,
  we beheld the Father’s Son.
So was His passion, all for us,
  He bore our state in pity.
He felt the loss of the lost,
  carrying it in His mercy.
 
He would have nothing less
  buy only what He could give.
The Blessed One moves, all to bless.
The Life wants us to live.
 
Deity and dignity,
  their prerogative He had set aside.
All for joy, that we would see,
  what it means to abide.
 
Truly He loved, as Love and Truth,
  all to His own shame.
His blood and flesh is our proof,
  bearing the Name above all names.
So don’t refuse, nor walk the fence.
Run into the holy fire.
Anything less is an offense,
  to not escape the holy ire.
 
Bless the Lord. Take His name.
He has taken all your sin.
Take what’s His. He took your shame.
He lost that you would win.
 
In passing you'll see the Love you have,
  when Time has fully waned.
Your own choice will make you glad,
  seeing that Jesus is Love's name.

© 12-10-09

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