They choose nails to fix You to the Tree of Life, the witness of Your Death.
It was Love that drew You to that Hour, that thrice holy Hour,
Love, not nails, that held You fast, upon the beam.
Your Father’s Will was the cord that bound and secured You,
Heart and Soul, Your Undivided All.
You choose this consummation, devoid of earthly pleasure,
Your Passion, the counter and all consuming Fire, that ravages Sin,
The Sin of our earthly passions,
That spends our lives in unholy rebellion.
When all others fled for want of Godly self-possession,
You mounted Your Cross in peace and resignation.
This throne of suffering and sovereignty held dominion
Over the underworld and all it’s gods.
Your edict, a request: “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
It is Love that draws You to this Hour, this thrice-holy Hour,
Love, not nails, that weds me, in freedom and abandonment, to Your All Holy Heart.
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