THORNS

THORNS

“damn!” she winced, as her finger I stuck.

Is she  just so careless, or is it only bad luck?

“there’s no good reason for them to exist;

If they were gone, they’d never be missed!”

Brought on by your foolishness, a sign of the “Curse”;

Without us was Eden, long ago, back at the first.

Our presence is only doomed to cause pain.

You ask why we’re here; You need someone to explain?!

Surely you remember the ancient story of Adam and Eve;

And, how from the Garden, you were made to leave.

It was then that the Maker cursed the ground.

And since then, man has always had us around.

Then, another, the Second, left from his throne.

He took on your sins; He made them his own!

With intent to hurt, they angrily plaited a crown,

From the first thing they saw when they looked around.

With calloused heart and hands, into our brambles they did reach,

for Christ’s cursed crown, proudly and defiantly worn for you each.

Surely emeralds and gold belonged on His head?!

But, us -- damned, pointed thorns -- he gladly wore, instead.

So, on that black Friday, He redeemed all of you.

And, maybe, just maybe, that spiny halo, He bought back too?!

Upon the brow of the “man of sorrows” we first brought the crimson flow,

That washes away your sins, and, thank God, makes you “whiter than snow”!

No longer doomed, to be only the source of pain for your sinful rages;

But, also we’re given a place of honor, forever, in the “Story of the Ages”!