Poetry

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Look up my son
See the cross
It is where
He was lost

Why my father
Why did He die
Was it my sins
Was it my lie

Did I do something
To hold him there
Was it our heart
Did not we care

No my son
It was not just you
All of us
And me too

Each tall tale
Each angry look
All our sins
Yes He took

Brown and yellow
Black and white
Lifted Him up
To the height

From the beginning
With Adam’s sin
Then each of us
Again and again

Oh, my son
Do not cry
Dry those tears
And listen why

At the first
God made a plan
To send His son
To save all man


That crafty snake
Struck His heel
By tricking man
To make a deal

You will not
Surely die
Eat the fruit
You’ll get by

Separation came
With that choice
We did not heed
God’s own voice

So, you see
Do not cry
Look up here
And listen why

Adam first
Jesus last
All our sin
Now the past

Because the cross
Took His life
Now the church
Is His wife

You and I
Are free to shout
And tell the world
All about

His loving grace
That freedom brings
Listen now
As angels sing

For each lost sinner
That has come home
No more to wonder
No more to roam


Look up my son
See the cross
It is the place
Where sin was lost

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