Through the breech

Another time, another place,
tears of blood course His face.
the shepherd cries for His flock
and gazes up at yonder rock …
as the giant repeats his call,
“this time you must surely fall”.
Stony hide cuts His stride
ploughed back, stifled cry
on wounded shoulder borne
thorny cross and bloody crown.
Alone he hangs on mortal cross
alone atop His destined rock.

Men on knees, cry to God.
Eyes well and flood each heart.
Look beyond, there the start,
where Christ did chasms part …
alone on rocky mound,
amongst hell’s rabid hound.
His life like surest stone
cast darkness from its throne.
A shout breeched death’s span
‘tis finished, so died the man …
yet on this rock shall He stand
with His royal, blood-washed band.