Ripped by the Passion


Has it ripped you?

That look on His face

As the mother caught

A glimpse

And they yanked Him away.


The momentum

Of prosecution

Sweeps over Goodness;

The chains, the sweat,

The martial pace.


A rude woodwork

Lades His shoulders.

Streets once rejoicing

At the message

Now curse and scrape.


But has it ripped you?

Seeing many falls

And lashings.

The Peacemaker

Inciting matchless hate.


And friends stare mutely

But dare not step up.

Even the governor

Flinches at this task.

God’s will be done.


It ripped Him…God

To see a Son so

Badly shamed, pained,

Rebuked and drained,

As per Plan.


That target hill on

Which salvation stands.

The spikes that butcher

Feet and hands.

The ridiculous crown.


But show me, Man.

It rips and rocks you.

Or else REMOVE!

Another broken reed,

Christ’s worth to prove.


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