Because, dear Christ, your tender, wounded arm
Bends back the brier that edges life's long way,
That no hurt comes to heart, to soul no harm,
I do not feel the thorns so much to-day.
Because I never knew your care to tire,
Your hand to weary guiding me aright,
Because you walk before and crush the brier,
It does not pierce my feet so much to-night.
Because so often you have hearkened to
My selfish prayers, I ask but one thing now,
That these harsh hands of mine add not unto
The crown of thorns upon your bleeding brow
E. Pauline Johnson (1861-1913)
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comments
Jack writes:
1
Thanks Joe for making this site more than another site about issues; thanks for reminding us of the beauty and value of our faith.
posted on 03.25.2005 11:23 AM
Paul M. Martin writes:
3
HONORING THE DISHONERED: Beautiful. Sometimes though, I wish that we also had a way of honoring those who suffer senselessly. In torture chambers, by terrible diseases, those who "disappear" under dictatorships - every day, people the world over suffer deaths still more painful than crucifixion. Added to this is their inner anguish of knowing that their suffering saves no one and accomplishes nothing.
Maybe some things are just too terrible to make for good poetry subjects. Yet I think that a big part of Christ's mission was to bring us all to emulate Him sufficiently to help decrease such senseless misery.
posted on 03.27.2005 3:56 PM