I heard the praise that triumphant day,
as the King of Kings came through the gate.

I heard the whispers of doubt and fear,
grow and fester as the feast drew near.

I heard the shouts of those who cried,
“Crucify, Crucify!”
And saw, with tears He was to die.

Then, as our way,
with crosses made,
I heard and felt,
my doubts,
my fears,
invade.

And then, Him I saw
upon the cross,
and heard, as pounded nails pierced,
His healing hands, that fed us all,
His feet, that came to us,
the lost.

Then as His cross, to Heaven raised,
I saw, I felt,
His wounded gaze.

A thief I was and wrong had done.
But with my Christ,
love had won.

And then I heard,
as darkness fell,
“Come with Me,
in Paradise we’ll dwell.”

By Harry Martin

Copyright 2017