The Son of God (poem)

“Behold the Lamb of God,” the Baptist cries

The Christ repents of evil not his own

He steps down to the chilling stream that once

Gave way before another Joshua,

That those he led might reach the promised land

Now he descends into the surging deep

The waters rush above his head, and then

He rises, breathing deeply once again

The cloudy curtain of the heavens tears

A Voice proclaims him God’s beloved Son

The Lamb up to the slaughterhouse is led

To bear the weight of evil not his own

Guilt pulls him down toward death as mockers shout

At him to save himself, but he will not

That those he leads might reach the promised land

Thus He descends into the damp, dark grave and waits

To rise. But now He yields His dying breath

The sacred curtain of the temple tears

A man declares, “This was the Son of God.”