What a beautifully, horrible sight to see,
My LOVE is hanging on a tree.
No mortal man has hung him there,
They couldn’t keep Him, though they dare.
No nail or spike could hold Him tight,
The love that held Him pierced the night.
That precious blood, the body broken,
A lavish gift, yet just a token.
What kind of love so strong and free,
Would hang itself upon a tree?
A love that lasts, that spans all time,
Then goes beyond its set confines.
Peace my heart, don’t fret or cry,
For now my LOVE sits on high.
On heavens throne He now resides,
And I am sitting by His side.
copyright Jodi A. Woody 2015