The Shoes Of The Fisherman - The Final Walk Poem by Jean Woodlee

They led Him up a steep steep hill.
All of a sudden the crowd become still.
They tied Him to a cruel tree.
He hung and suffered so we would be free.

The blood flowed from His wounded side.
His precious mother her tears could not hide
As a river of blood began to flow.
It washed our hearts and cleansed our soul.

This gentle man who did no wrong.
Uttered not a word but was proud and strong.
He knew His father said this He had to do.
To save worthless sinners like me and you.

He was a man full of love with a kindly face.
He gave His life to give us grace.
Or this Good Friday we remember that day.
And in our churches worship and pray.

I want to thank you Lord for what you did that day.
I give my life to you and for your help and guidance I pray.
That I may follow in the footsteps of the Fisherman.
And may I be with you in Heaven if that is in your plan.