Jesus Christ Poem by lalitha iyer

The selfish giant he showed me the child
sitting upon the tree with branches wild
was a little boy with wounds so bright
red and blood the fair boy lisped
and the giant's ego fell down dead.

When my age of tender read this story
It touched me deeply, as deep could be
Still an old woman, when I read the story
I weep for the child who saved the world.
Could there be a better god than the bleeding God.

Who could be a mother so hard hearted
to see her child nailed with blood
who could be a mortal in this world
to bear his god with bleeding heart.

How could the God who springed the Giant's garden
could winter his life with dying pain
How could we allow the Heavens to bleed our God
let us love and spray seeds of sacrifice and good.