The Magic And The Miracles Poem by Dann Thomas

I believe in Jesus, not just for the Bible,
But coz of a faltering bunch called the disciples.
They saw the magic, they saw the miracles.
Fed 5000, rocked Jerusalem, drove the spirits away.
Yet at the cross, scared, they just ran away.

One of them denied, many of them doubted.
Another in terror ran away naked.
They saw the magic, took part in the miracles.
Walked on water and gave the blind sight
Yet at the cross, frightened away by Roman might.

They sang with him, laughed with him, fought for him.
Turned water to wine and broke bread with him.
They saw the magic, rejoiced in the miracles.
Yet when their Saviour was spat on and tortured.
When their king hung as a thief, they disappeared.

One of them hung himself in remorse and guilt.
His dreams unlike the 'Kingdom' being built.
He saw the magic, he saw the miracles.
Saw the dead resurrected from a grave, four days late.
But the pain and agony in hurting love, sealed his fate.

And after the crucifixion, terrorized, they all hid.
Guardedly returning to the tasks they previously did.
They had seen the magic, they had heard the parables,
Yet, somehow now, it just seemed a vague dream.
Their good times killed by a conniving Jewish scheme.

But when they met their resurrected Lord, it all changed.
For it was for them he first died and rose again.
They saw, living, their God of the magic and miracles.
Then whether speared, beheaded, crucified or skinned alive,
Never once doubted, but as witnesses, for Christ they would die.


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