The Cross Poem by Richard Netherland Cook

At the foot of a cross in a land far away.
A Mother stands weeping in the early day,
In a Mothers' heart are the memories she keeps,
Of a babe in a manger who silently sleeps.
Of a little boy at play, of a teen in his prime,
Of a son that is perfect, so gentle and kind.
Now nailed to a cross by the cruelness of men,
Is Jesus, The Christ, a man without sin.
'Behold thy son', to his Mother he speaks, his words so soundly profound
As blood from a piercing wound in his side falls now on scared ground.
Before her in death is the Savior Devine who has died on the cross for the sins of mankind.
Gently taken down from the cross away from the chanting growd,
By Joseph, a faithful follower, and wrapped in a linen shrould.
His grave is a darkened cave, carved from solid stone,
There his lifeless body is placed to rest there all alone.
A weeping Mother turns to prayer with a heart so full of pain,
To ask his Heavenly Father to lift him from his earthly chain.
Her prayer is now answered, He desends to the heavens above,
Raised up on Easter Morning by a Fathers' undying love.
The gates of Heaven open wide and the angel's sing his praises,
As he is seated by his Fathers' side to reign for all the ages.