The Cross, the Crook and the Crown
In the desert of my own choosing
I find a banquet laid out for me
In my wandering, thirst and hunger
I chance upon a strange tree.
A tree without branches, without fruit, without leaves
Yet the shade and the comfort is more than I need
I sit and I wonder with my head on my knees
How my heart can be so happy
Beneath such a strange and stark tree.
Something like liquid pours over my head
My thirst is quenched and my soul is fed
I have done nothing, only wandered and failed
Yet this tree has provided such comforting shade.
In the valley of confusion
I walked around and around
Shoulders bent and dragging feet
The path could not be found
With breaking heart and empty soul
I hated every step
Every rock and every scene
My life was totally spent
Through the mist of sin and shame
A rod and staff appeared
And then a man, a shepherd man
With a band around his head
He extended his rod and I fell to the ground
Then with the staff He lifted me up
He gently lifted me around His neck
Out of the dirt and muck
“This is going to be hard,” He said
And I said, “That’s ok.
You can break my legs
Or do what you will,
As long as I find my way.”
On the mountaintop of life
When all was going well
I thought I was the best
My fame was soon to tell
With my head held high in the air
And my heart pumped up with pride
I came across a crown
Just lying on the side
Its jewels were just amazing
I could hardly stand the light
My eyes were almost blinded
The brightness was so bright
What I saw, I wanted
I wanted it for me
I wanted it so badly
For everyone to see
As my hand reached out to touch the crown
Lying on the ground
It turned to blood and thorns and pain
My heart began to pound
The owner of both crowns came by
And offered them to me
“Which one do you want the most?
Neither one comes free.”
The thorny one was ugly
So dull, so brown, so cheap
How could I possibly wear this one?
The humiliation would be deep.
But the gold one, yes
That would be fine
That would be just great
It fits me and it looks so good
Hey, this must be my fate.
The owner of both crowns
Looked down, at my expectant head
”Oh, you want the costly one,
The one that fits your head?
Come, let’s try and see
The truth of what you’ve said.”
As His hands came down,
The golden crown, was held above my head
And then it changed to the ugly one
And with that the owner said,
“Greatness is the thing you want
And the glory and the gold
But these things will come to you
When the other crown you hold.
Without the thorns, the pain, the blood
The glory cannot be
That is why at this point in time
Both crowns will stay with me
It is clear that death is not for you
So where you are just pray
That you will see the thorny crown
As my only, perfect way.”
This was from a dream/visiony thing I had. I woke up and wrote it down just as I had seen/heard it. Written in a poetical season of my life. First and last rhymie one.