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The blood of the lamb

In spring, the blossom on the blackthorn and the lily is the same,

There in the shepherd lands, where I stayed to think of Your name.

I heard the lamb's voice, when I passed the long grass in that field,

Waiting the bleating of the lamb and waiting by You to be healed.

I saw a flash of light more white, than I had ever seen before,

Descendant deep inside, until I perceived Your divine chore.

And when I heard the angel's song in the darkness over all,

I understood that You would pass to break inside my wall.

But You showed me only all the sins I have and all I did in vain,

You left me, but I would stay waiting You to come again.

And if I'm green and happy, even tired, and yet alive I am

It is because white is my soul and red is Your blood of lamb.

poem by Marieta Maglas
Added by Poetry Lover
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