Many of those who took bread from His hands
Would later cry for His blood!
Along with others who followed the crowd
Whom figure were not worth crud!
But Jesus prayed from His cross for this crud,
“Father forgive…” They are but sheep!
Wandering, lost, with no Shepherd!
But in my mind vermin that creep!
Forgive me, Father! Sometimes I forget,
Even apart from the crowd,
That I once hated, cursed to my shame!
Not whispering but out loud!
When I looked on you as God without love,
I just did not understand,
You had promoted him to realms above!
To a far superior land!
The lost ones who once cried, “Crucify!”
Could later be Spirit led.
Cry out there at that very same cross and
Receive the Living Bread!
I forgot, Dear Lord, You who died for all!
Shedding your precious blood,
That I was once a recipient.
That I, myself, was once crud!
S. Cox 01.24.09