Thursday, July 15, 2010

Crown of Thorns

















Standing in the hot sun,
plucking the dark, plump
blackberries from the canes
and dreaming of the treats
I might create with the fruit,
I carelessly turn
and catch my bare arm on the thorns.

I call out in pain
and pull a thorn from my skin.
I watch the blood
gush out in a bright, red drop.

Didn’t he tell me
to wear long sleeves
while picking berries, as
he dug the heirloom canes
from the ground
for me to transplant
into my garden?
I rarely listened to him
when I was young,
and now that I am
not so young
I still fail to listen
to the sound of his memory
in my mind.

But now, my thoughts wander back
to a garden long ago,
a garden rich and lush
with berries in abundance.
There he stood;
my father,
long sleeves regardless
of the heat,
picking those berries
day in
day out,
until the canes were picked clean,
and gently carrying his
purple treasures to the kitchen
where they would be quickly eaten.

But another man
didn’t enjoy sweet berries
after enduring the pain of thorns.
He wore those thorns tightly
wrapped against his head
with no one to pull them out
when he cried in pain,
and only a stranger,
a lovely, gentle woman,
who offered her veil
to dry his blood.

He carried those thorns with him
to his death
and was only offered
the bitter taste of gall
to quench his deep thirst;
a taste He refused
as the taste of our sin
that filled his mouth
was bitter enough for Him.






Oh sweet Jesus,
how I wish you could know
the flavor of fresh summer-picked
blackberries.
And how I wish I would refrain
from complaining when the thorns
grab hold of my skin.
I want so much to be brave and strong
like You,
to wear my crown of thorns
without complaint.
For I know that when I do
you will be holding out my reward,
a treasure sweeter than any berry,
a life of eternal joy with you
in your heavenly garden.

10 comments:

  1. A treause sweeter than any berry, living forever in the eternal garden of Jesus. Your imagery is as vivid as the picture of the ripe berries. This is just beautiful. Your poetry is a gift!

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  2. A great poem once again Anne. Thank you.

    I have these berries in my garden and I have been cut many a time by the thorns. From now on I'll remember the crown of thorns whenever the plants attack me again.

    God bless.

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  3. Excellent post! I am sorry for your pain while picking berries but the fruit of that thorn was this poem, and for that I am grateful.

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  4. HI Anne. Your prayer poem is wonderful! Thank you for sharing with us your encounter with God in many special ways, including berries, picking them and being pricked by thorns. Sometimes pain brings out the best in us, a mystery of God's making. God bless you, Anne!

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  5. Beautiful poem, Anne.

    Its so painful to think about what our Lord went through. Like you, I often find myself humbled and disappointed when I complain of lesser pains.

    I must admit, I am glad that this wonderful post came out of your experience!

    God Bless you for finding Jesus in everything.

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  6. A great pose. So moving. Thanks.

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  7. This is a very dramatic image, Anne!

    Along other lines, please note that Blest Atheist went down, so you might want to take it off your blogroll. I replaced it with 100th Lamb (www.emahlou.blogspot.com), which has the same content and explains what happened to BA. I will also be moving the BA posts over there, including the Blest Guest posts.

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  8. Hello Anne
    This is a beautiful and touching poem. You have a beautiful mind. Thank you for sharing your great gift with us. God bless you.

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