Crowned With Love

 Weak, leaning against the bars of my enclosing

Dirty hands, soiled heart, a prison I deserve

Laughter

Sandaled feet stop before my cell

A bundle of thorny vines thrust between the bars

To make a crown 

Trembling, I begin

Even at this, failing

Hands bleeding, pierced and scratched

Tears of pain, shame and frustration

And a lopsided oversized crown

Thorns all in the same direction

Thorns as long as my fingers

I shiver

Heavy footsteps

The door opens

Somewhere I hear a burst of raucous laughter

And the sound of blows

The crown is taken from my hands

As I’m hauled to my feet 

Pushed, stumbling past the room of a prisoner

Curiosity overcoming me I raise my eyes

A man, beaten beyond recognition 

Purple robe soaked in red

And eyes

Deep brown eyes of love and grief

Piercing me to my very soul

All else fading for a moment—

I’m pushed forward

Thrown onto the street

With shouted threats and mockeries

The gate slams

I stumble away

Mud and blood smeared across my face

Where I wiped my tears away

Those eyes

How could there be so much love

In one so beaten

So much love

In that horribly marred face

I wander—

Shouts and commotion travel up the road

The hot wind carrying the sound of mocking laughter

With the stench of sweat and blood

I watch

A crowd of curious onlookers

Weeping women

Children running through the fuss

Pharisees in long black robes

Soldiers making way 

Wood dragging in the dirt

A man beaten beyond recognition

Carrying the means of his destruction

Stumbling under its weight

A crown of thorns lopsided on his head

A crown of thorns—

His eyes meet mine

That man

I see my life in his eyes

Every failure and fear

Every moment of love and care

Every hardship and every pain

I see Him know it

Hold my worthless life and treasure it

In those eyes

Then he is forced on

But I follow

Follow him to the hill

Where he actually stretches out his hands 

Silent

Willing 

As his hands and feet are nailed down

I watched as they raised him up

And each breath became a labor

Saw his friends and mother weeping

As blood dripped into his eyes

From the crown of thorns I made

The crown made for my head

That I should be wearing

Me

The one who failed

The one who wronged

The one who sinned

All I can see is that crown of thorns

And those eyes

How was there still love?

I turn and run

Run as the world turns dark

Feet pounding the dirt

As the sun disappears and the earth shakes

Good

I can hide in the darkness 

Hide?

Hide from what?

I stop

Gasping for air I don’t deserve

Tears running down my face

Those eyes-

So much love-

How was there love?

Who was he that he could love?

Who is he?

When I reached the hill again

He was gone

The cross standing testament

To the horrors he endured

A woman knelt at its base

Weeping

Forehead pressed to the wood

Arms reaching around it in an embrace

The woman cried out—

My God! My God!

Anguish in every tone of her voice

And even the wind seemed to pause and listen

Then in a whisper—

I trust you.

We remained there

As the sky’s darkened and the cold set in

Her, arms wrapped around the cross

Perfect submission

Perfect grief

Me, watching

Standing in the shadow of the cross

For forever and a moment

She rose, turning, and saw me

Soft brown eyes of love 

Pierced to the soul with grief

Recognition

She was one who followed

The woman who touched his face when he fell

Comforted him with a glance

His mother

She stretched out her hand—

Come

I followed

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