And One Did Not

This church I stand before is mine

Next door, 3 crosses left behind

They hail from an event now passed

But the crosses, they were built to last

 

There they are, wrapped in lights

Not for Christmas, just to light the night

A hayride planned to journey past

It took awhile but the rain did pass

 

As always I parked beside the field

Weeks gone by, the crosses steeled

Standing vigil, or so I thought

One cross… two…. and one did not

 

I’m not sure which wind laid the waste

But mid cross fell upon its face

This was so jarring to behold

As the other, smaller two stood bold

 

I paused, reminded of history

Long past, but still no mystery

An innocent man had drooped far down

As devout sinners, whispering, stood around

It was poetic just to see

That one cross bent low, on its knee

I know the story, believe it true

Savior on the cross for me, for you

 

A pretty story for the spring

But there is sorrow that we sing

That clean cross now on muddy ground

Life keeps going, who looks around?

One person could run and lift it up

Two people and the work be shut

Instead inside the church I go

To teach a story of long ago


Prompted by: “Write a poem about noticing something interesting while passing by a church near your home.”

 

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