Bob Gotti

Rookie (03/15/1957 / New Jersey)

The Power Of The Cross - Poem by Bob Gotti

It was a special time indeed, when Christ chose to died upon a tree,
For He didn't die because of a crime, but He died for you and me.

On the morning before He died, as the garden was quiet and still,
He chose to do a work of Love and follow His Father's will.

He told the Disciples to wait and watch as he went away to pray,
But when He returned, He found them all asleep, much to His dismay.

He then went back to pray to The Father, not once but two more times,
Although He wanted the cup to pass he said Father your will not mine.

Filled with anguish He continued to pray to The One in whom He loved,
In so much pain as He prayed, His sweat fell to the ground like blood.

When He returned to the disciples, it was no surprise to The Lord,
As they saw Judas leading a crowd, with each man lifting a sword.

He was arrested that day, for you and I, and lead off to face a trial
While the Apostle who said that he never would, went into denial.

In their grief instead of holding fast to the Only One that mattered,
As The Scriptures clearly stated, the rest of the disciples scattered.

After they regathered, but filled with grief, much to their surprise,
As it was clearly taught by the prophets, The Lord truly did arise.

And as they understood that day, Christ's Resurrection set them free,
Today that same power is available to you, if you only would believe.

(Copyright © 03/2002)


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Read poems about / on: father, grief, believe, today, power, work, tree, pain



Poem Submitted: Friday, July 4, 2003



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