Poetry

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A Man Called Cross
By; Gary L. S. West


I met a man while on the road
He seemed to bear a heavy load
I met a man while on the way
And to me he did say

"Good day, sir, I greet you kind
I walk this road that seems to wind
I've many things I've carried long
Which to me don't belong"

"If you've a thing that brings you grief
Give to me and take relief
I'll bear it away and, by grace,
Make this a better place"

Confused, I arched my eyebrow high
And took a step, drawing nigh
"Good sir, I do not understand
Why you lend a hand"

"I do not know you, or your name
Or why you would take my blame
And carry far my shameful load
Down this winding road"

"I am," he said, "to all men friend
And brother dear until the end
I cannot bear to see my kin
Buried 'neath their sin

"So sins upon my shoulder sit
I carry them to great dark pit
I place them in a furnace hot
And render them forgot"

"Forgot, forgave, and never more
Will they cause pain and bruise and sore
And this price so small I plead
That you plant a seed"

"Tell those you meet, spread the news
They can be free of pain and bruise
If such a price you, sir, can pay
I'll take your sins away"

I nod and so he takes my pack
Removes the weight from off my back
I feel so light and worry-free
As he turns to leave

I watch the man walk down the road
Bearing away my heavy load
"Your name, sir?" I my query toss
Says he, "My name is Cross"

I met a man while on the road
He seemed to bear a heavy load
I met a man while on the way
Who took my sins away

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