THE CROSS

The Cross - a map as true as any Ordnance Survey,
Reveals to all the daily Way,
Sets free the human heart from demon shadow ;
Instead of blood-caked stones of mortal strife :
The tender bread of loaves of life.

The Cross - a seed that's sown and deeply rooted,
Grown in stoniest of earthern times,
A vine that's watered by His regal blood,
And fed through consecrated, Kingly love.

The Cross - a bridge traversing space and time,
To join the shores of now, to Evermore,
And christen human flesh with Kingdom's chrism,
To cheer our souls, upon this distant shore.

The Cross, today, is what it's always been :
The One, defeated, cancelled King,
Shorn and silenced, murdered for telling Sin :
Our sham and shallow human "- Isms" !