The Gift

Tracks of the cross in the blowing dust
The blood soaked ground in the drying gust
flesh and blood to be wore like a cloak
The body entombed and then awoke

For all that's gone so much remain
To humans a gift from one was slain
Gone is the flesh from the body dead
Now bones to dust but the grave not dread

2 Corinthians 11:13-15

” For such are false apostles, deceitful
workers, transforming themselves into
the apostles of Christ.

And no marvel; for Satan himself is
transformed into an angel of light.

Therefore it is no great thing if his
ministers also be transformed as the
ministers of righteousness; whose end
shall be according to their works.”

This poem was a finalist in the August 2016 poetry contest