Victory

Beyond me is a moment…

Frozen, sitting patiently between one second and the next one.

At that moment, a rough metal spike presses against the tight flesh

Probing for the right space between the bones

To pass through to the wood beneath

Finding soft access, the mallet drives the nail through

Secure to the timber, below the line of the rope

As the blood rains onto the arid sands

The wail comes from a place deeper than the coldest well

It purges the sands, shaking the temple’s dark drapes

Surrounding the crucifier, entombing him

It is not the sound of flesh on fire, not the cry of bone and blood

It is the piercing of a loyal Heart denying, despite prophecy,

His children could raise hands to harm Him

In the timeless center of that moment, their eyes meet for the first time

The Victor looking into duty’s victim, seeking contact with

A heart that He can understand, and defend

It is nearly too small a thing to find, too distant to recall through years

A simple moment, almost without meaning or distinction

A father’s caress of a not-yet sleeping child, and his prayer

In the instant of that human bond, in the epiphany of that confirmation

The Victor redefines his pain as passion and defies defeat

The fire of His agony fuel for His conquering spirit