He Died for Me
A POEM FOR GOOD FRIDAY
(with acknowledgment to Barbara Parker, a Salvationist at Lewisham Corps and a Great Grandmother to Mia, one of our toddlers)
The sky was dark, and it was clear.
That something was amiss,
The air was full of tension, and
I questioned, what is this?
I made my way along the street,
I felt a strange unease,
The crowds were flocking through the gate,
And some seemed quite displeased.
I asked a stranger what he knew
Of what was happening,
He told me that upon that day
We’d see an awful thing.
A crucifixion on the hill
Was going to take place,
He said it was a special one,
I hurried on apace.
As I approached, I saw the cross,
Pointing towards the sky,
I felt a cold chill over me,
A shiver down my spine.
As I drew closer to the scene,
I just could not ignore
The man who hung there bruised and torn,
For I’d met Him before.
He touched my fife, He made me whole,
He made my blind eyes see,
I know that some time had elapsed,
But I’m sure that He knew me.
He looked at me with loving eyes,
That touched my heart again,
And tenderly He said to me,
“Some day with me you’ll reign”.
I knew then that The King of Kings
Was dying there for me,
And that I’d always Praise His Name,
And serve Him faithfully.