by Noah Craig
God of joy, Man of sorrows. He’s here, in past, in tomorrow. He died for the dead, Trading red for red, Enduring the eternal weight, Consequences of my sinful trait. Holdings my tears in a jar While His drop from afar. Why are you weeping; God has already wept. He is just to forgive And faithful to forgive. It doesn’t make sense But maybe is too immense To wrap my head around. His head was crowned With those braided thorns So mine may be heavenly adorned.
Noah Craig currently resides in Corvallis, Oregon. He loves to ponder the wonder of both the natural and the spiritual.