THOSE FOOTSTEPS ECHO IN HEARTS

THOSE FOOTSTEPS ECHO IN HEARTS


Two thousand years ago in
Desolate desert land
Walked a man at thirty three
Leaving footsteps on sand.

His footprints were rather deep,
He bore a burden great.
As He lumbered up the hill
Too tired was His gait.

His tongue was thirsty and parched,
Sensing a saltish taste.
Sweat dropped on His lips as He
Was prodded up in haste.

His countenance was serene.
Lost He was in His thought,
Musing at the fate to which
His preaching had Him brought.

But He knew in His heart that
There was a purpose great
For which He had sent Him down
While the whole world did wait.

Nailed He was then to the cross,
On head a crown of thorns.
Vinegar was poured on His
Cracking lips. Oh vile norms!

When He could bear no more pain,
To his Father He prayed
That the tormentors of His
Son be pardoned, not flayed.

Those footsteps echo in hearts
Of men even today.
May we never forget You;
Lord, only this we pray.


* Written in abcb, 7-6-7-6 format

M C Gupta
27 July 2004