I walk through the wilderness, <br />with sandals on my feet, <br />a crown of thorns around my head, <br />one-person helps with the cross that I carry. <br />Crowds follow my progress, <br />women weep at my feet. <br />I go to meet my father, <br />somewhere out there. <br /> <br />The crosses stand tall, <br />victims scream out with pain. <br />I am laid on my back, <br />my arms pulled open wide. <br />The nails penetrate my palms. <br />I feel no pain, <br />my feet are then nailed, <br />and still there is no pain. <br /> <br />The cross is hoisted up, <br />for all to see. <br />I look down at those, <br />all gathered there. <br />A spear bites my side, <br />but I do not die. <br />Stillness enshrouds everyone, <br />as silence falls all around. <br /> <br />My fate is sealed, <br />but I will rise again. <br />Men will dine with me, <br />just one more time. <br />My name will be remembered, <br />for eons to come. <br />They will call me by many names, <br />because I am God’s son.<br /><br />David Harris<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-will-rise-again/
