These Are My JOTtings, Part #2

The Loneliest Cross Among Three

This man upon a cross laid down,
the crossbeam for two hands.
One nail in each wrist kept Him bound,
but He laid there by Plan.

Two other crossbeams villains kept,
but This Man did no wrong.
They laid on each his cross by debt.
The God-Man stopped all songs.

Three crossbeams held three men 'til death.
Three crossbeams felt the THUD
as three men landed taking breath
by this torture, Oh so crude.

Three crossbeams stuck to every back
by matted blood and splintered wood.
The sanding every crossbeam's lack
for punishment were rude.

The loneliest cross, the dividing line
between the false and True.
Through pain one chided, staying blind.
Though pained, one became new.

The middle beam points to the sky
to show from Whence He came.
The crossbeam spread for you and I
His Arms to bear our shame.

The darkest hours from noon 'til three
made his the loneliest cross.
Apart from His Father, thus cut free
as Sin the terrible Cost.

The crossbeam's final needed task
kept men from falling down
when final breath expired as passed
to keep them off the ground.

The crossbeams held as the men were laid,
again upon the ground
as rusty nails in cruel trade
were yanked out from the bound.

But no more pain could from them exact
for they as breathless gone
were now in blessing or in lack
as chosen by The Son.

The crossbeams now a bloody mess,
and thrown away as trash,
or set aside for next distress
of souls who'd breathe their last.

Two arms spread out in agony
bring saving Grace to all,
who by the faith He gives to thee
will on His Name, yet call.

line count: 48
poetry form: iambic quatrains of 2 iambic tetrameter & iambic trimeter couplets
prompt number: 3 (February 3rd, 2026)

by Jay O’Toole
on February 21st, 2026