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.

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Noah Craig currently resides in Corvallis, Oregon. He loves to ponder the wonder of both the natural and the spiritual.