Читать книгу Remembering Jesus - John Leax - Страница 6

Matthew 26:25, 27:5

I dream of grace. The tongue that might have praised,

That might have sung forgiveness equal to

The sum of all the mercy God shot through

Creation when his stone-sealed Son blazed

Awake, the light to light betrayal’s dark

Design, is swollen black in the hole that was

A mouth; my brother, Judas, hanged the ark

Of his redemption. Still I dream of grace.

I dream I take him from his tree, and lift

Him up to life. Should one betrayal cost

A soul—eternity demand such thrift

Of grace—the lost remain forever lost?

How then my three denials be forgiven?

Christ, Savior, win your chosen back for Eden.