He cried a final cry, exhaled a final breath.
The veil, now torn in two, but what came next?
Jesus knew his fate; still he would go.
Love came down and took my place,
Perfect and pure,
It’s said white as snow.
One lonesome soldier knew,
Dared to speak aloud.
His words must have hushed
That sin filled crowd.
Women’s tears were falling,
as the sacrificial body turned cold.
“Surely this man was the Son of God,”
I hear it bold.
Was his cry what I imagine?
Or, was it hushed in awe and regret?
Did a tear escape his brutal eyes,
How long did he stare at the body hung dead.
For that one death would change the world,
For all who would believe.
When that veil tore in two
Relationship restored,
direct connection for me and you.
What we do next is personal,
From the silent prayer, to the discipleship call.
For the death that rocked the world that day,
Was the life that saved us all.
..and on the third day..He rose again.
I invite you to visit the website of Kate Motaung for full details and rules (well the one rule). http://katemotaung.com/five-minute-friday/
All are welcome and invited to take part in joining women around the world for Five Minute Friday! You will be given a prompt word, then simply take five minutes of your day to write a heartfelt, authentic message (no need to edit) using that word!
Lisa @ Authentic Truths 
Visiting as your FMF neighbor. Captured the spirit of the season. Good job. Have a blessed Easter!
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Thank you! God bless and enjoy this time of remembrance.
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Oh yes, and on the third day, He rose again!! Isn’t that the best “last line”!!?! So enjoyed your poem. Visiting from FMF. I hope you have a wonderful and joy-filled Easter weekend!!
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Thank you Jennifer, you as well!
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Beautiful poem! It’s hard to imagine the change that must have gripped that soldier in that moment! That’s what Jesus is all about though….changing us! Loved your words today!
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Thank you Cindy. It was what touched my heart and mind this morning.
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This is really, really beautiful. And, if I may, you’ve inspired a poem.
Wish I had a soldier’s grace
but it’s something I can’t carry;
I fought, but in another place.
I am a mercenary.
When governments forsook them
someone had to care.
Even if the world was numb,
my mates and I went there.
Paid in food still moving
and a blanket for the night,
we fought and died, proving
that we’d defend what’s right.
And some people we did save
at the cost of an unmarked holy grave.
#1 at FMF this week.
https://blessed-are-the-pure-of-heart.blogspot.com/2019/04/your-dying-spouse-608-easter-horizon.html
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Thank you and I love this!!!!
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💕 thank you for sharing
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