Pools of crimson stain the streets. People running,
Hiding, covering themselves and those around them.
Fear surrounds, then pain, followed by anger and rage.
Faces and heads shrouded in black, too cowardly to show themselves.
Thoughts of waging a righteous war against those who don’t believe as they do,
Brainwashed into thinking they are doing this for their god.
Groping for something to believe in –
Something to hang on to.
Do they find peace in causing others pain or in ending lives?
Where is the righteousness?
Blood flows from a beaten, smitten corpse, hanging on an instrument of torture.
This One not taking life, but giving it through holy, precious blood.
That is righteousness, bought and paid for the ugliest and most sinister of us.
Complete payment for all.
The victory over death has been accomplished.
Cleansing rain falls softly on an eager earth,
Thirsting for relief,
Longing for renewal and rebirth.
The tears of God bring respite for the dying soul,
He gave His only Son to fill a gaping hole,
The hole that widens every day,
When we forget to turn to Him and pray,
As branches dance and lightening fills the air,
I think of Him who takes away each care.
We see the need for God’s power to inspire us once again,
To cleanse our hearts and wash our dark souls in His refreshing rain.