I was conflicted and then convicted,
When I saw on your face depicted,
The marks of pain inflicted
By our sin.
.
I was swallowed by my sorrow
When I saw how you had borrowed
The weight of our tomorrows
And our shame.
.
Though I was adrift, you gave me this gift:
To see you on your shoulders uplift
The sins of a world so rift
By our hate.
.
But your mercy I inhaled, your love I exhaled,
When I saw that, though I had failed,
The walls of my sin had been scaled
By your love.
.
I knew that soon you’d been nailed, too soon impaled,
But I’d seen how your love prevailed
And so with courage I unveiled
My own head.
.
In a swift, sad race, red lines the blood traced
Down your cheeks like red lace
And so I wiped your face
With my veil.
.
Then I looked in your eyes, so strong and so wise,
So loving and honest and empty of lies,
And then I was caught, caught by surprise,
By your thanks.
.
But then the guards shouted, and our peace was routed.
When you turned away, my fears sprouted.
For a second, I doubted,
In your love.
.
I felt small and frail; without your grace, I would fail.
But then I looked down and knew I’d prevail,
For depicted on my veil,
Was your face.
Veronica Wipes the Face of Jesus, VI., Adolf Lachman, 1998
Advertisements
Share this:
