Every time they are afraid
I have to ask
Someone
Why
What happened
To give them terror
When they bleed
Why don’t they say so
Why don’t they ask
For help
Do they still think
No one will answer
Hug their small frames
They don’t respond
They pull away
Why do they have to hurt
Do they know
How to be loved
They have survived
But not their innocence
Shed emotion and hope
Fallen through the thorns
On the other side
Empty
Connect to their eyes
Void and detached:
Safe, at a distance
They don’t look back
Why don’t they cry
In the night
Why don’t they ask
For help
How do they laugh
How do they grin
How do they forgive
How can they move
Is it too late for them to learn
They can be loved?
Why are they scarred
On their skin and
In their hearts?
Why are they torn?
Who beat them
Who burned them
Who forgot them
Where is their blood
Where is this God
Of whom I’ve heard
Where is this Love
Of which I’ve been told
How did He watch
Where were His eyes
When they screamed
When they were broken
Where was His face
Hidden
Unturned
Unaffected
Those reasons
That they won’t hug
Those monsters
Who drew these scars
Where is their blood?
I am unworthy?
To untie His shoe?
Show Yourself
Then I’ll tremble
Where is this Face of Christ
Where is His hand of justice
Where is the Fire of Wrath
Where is my Miracle of Mercy
Who is this God?
I AM
Their pain burns you?
Before there was fire
I felt every thorn
I burned to meet them
Are you weak from your ire?
You want their blood?
Why do you think
I bled
You want my hand?
Here are my people
The least of these
The children
You want a miracle?
Bought and sanctified
From the foundation
You are my miracle
You want my eyes?
Look upon my face
Broken
And scarred
Every smile
Every laugh
Every embrace
By my hand
Every joy from my wounds
I AM not an image you will find
In a place
In a song
Even in a photo
You want my face?
Here are my brothers
Second-born from the grave
Perfected in corruption
Here is My Image
The Face of Christ
I am not
I am nothing
And I deserve nothing
Even my rage
I call my anger
Righteous
I call my judgments
Justified
Here You are
And here I tremble
A melting shadow
In a brilliant light
I am unworthy
To untie His shoe
I would defile
His muddy clothes
I am unfit
To share with Him
My humble food
Or table seat
I would desecrate His path
With my broom
I would dishonor his bruises
With my bandage
I could not raise
My hand to
Wipe away a tear
Of sweat and Blood
I could not look Him
In the eye
And let that light
Incinerate my soul
There is nothing here
That can be loved
I am empty of my rage
I am empty of my worth
You are
You are nothing
And you are unworthy
And you are broken
What strange and mighty Love
AM I
That I would come
For you, too
That I would call you
Whole
That I would make you
Mine, too
Are you weak from your self?
Is your blood rotten?
This is why
I bled
You want my hand?
Here is my hand
Take it
Freely
You want a miracle?
Bought and sanctified
From the foundation
You are my miracle
You want my eyes?
Look at Me
And know
You are now worthy
By my hands
By my wounds
You are new
Second-born
