When Will You See Me

If not, when whips of hide and iron, that mistreated,
the chosen one, a canvas my Father created.
Or when jagged thorns pierced and dug deep,
to open cuts; first drops of The Blood began to seep.

If not, when masses shouted threats and curses,
born from Satan who wrote their hate-filled verses.
Or when they spat and threw stones at the lamb,
predestined to this fate by the great I Am.

If not, when harshly hung upon a wooden cross,
nailing these hands that saved so many of the lost.
Or when final prayers spoke, and last breaths taken
as a spear pierced a body tortured and forsaken.

If not when I died for the sins of the world for eternity,
then when, my children when; when will you see me?