A Strange Sort of Love

It was said that blood was the price to pay for what I’ve done

living at the bottom

and blood was there in the life you gave

so that I could crawl from the desolation

at the foot of your cross

and the punishment you took

so that I could be free

it is said that the road to heaven

runs through the valley of suffering

and it is there that we find ourselves

reaching

as one hand toward the other

as the sky stretches toward the earth

you were were broken

and yet forgiving

I was the one with the blood stained hammer

who needed your grace

and how strange it is

that what should have ended in judgement

you thought was the perfect opportunity to show me love

and how strange it is

that this radical grace

was a stick in the spokes of karma

and what should have been the end

is where you said we could begin again

if I wanted