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Rated: E · Poetry · Religious · #2154075
A poem inspired by the Anglo-Saxon poem called The Dream of the Rood
i
At midnight a miraculous dream appeared:
a cross with gems encrusted,
golden etchings carved and chased with silver
in candlelight radiating and reciting the lord
it brightly and beauteously shone
five jewels the cross spans studded

not a grim gallows rose up
but a heavenly hallo was hailed
with angels softly sitting on a cross wondrous
the best of crosses for all to behold.

ii
I remember (eons ago it seems) being ripped from my roots
dragged from the dark woods, hewn and heaved
by my enemies hauled and halved.
twisted from agonising treetops into a spectacle

warriors with weary sinews carried me on shoulders
commanded me to a hilltop to bear criminals
groaned and gasped on my trunk hardened
and my contorted branches whirlpool the shadows and rocky darkness

where souls could be saved from despondency and despair.
with courage and power, the lord leaped
into my trembling arms that steadfast stood
I could not bow to the king of mankind.

They pierced my flesh with hard nails,
nails of malice murderous
and mocked us both on the mountain.
I was left blood-drenched as his blessed spirit passed.






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