I Heard

I heard he wore a scarlet robe
And his trail was marked with his blood, from Pilate’s court to the hill on Golgotha, the tiles, the cement, the grains of sand were stained with each spill of liquid love as the cloth scraped the patchy ground, the fabric, its treads, were soaked in red, trembling legs barely managing to make a stable step, Bare feet bruised with the ragged stones on the path he walked to his death

I heard his kingship was traded with a crown of thorns, as they mocked hail the king
Heaven's darling treated in that manner? Absurd, who could have done such a thing, a pin drop could have been heard at the throne, as his father turned his face from his only son for a sinful people,

I heard his sweat was blood the night before
I heard he was whipped with cat of nine tails, his tongue clinging to his jaws for life, the lash, its vibrations, its sting, it penetrated his soft, pure skin and had to be ripped out with force, his tears played along with his blood the thorns revealed, and moistened his swollen face

I heard the soldiers grabbed him by his robes and pushed him, tossed him back and forth like a ragdoll 
I heard they ripped the hairs of his beard and spat on his face
I heard this carpenter was murdered on wood he worked with, the kind of wood hammers drove nails into, the kind of wood the teeth of a saw chiseled

I heard dogs panted the ground below and their howls sang along with the screams in a decrescendo that finally rested in thick silence, it pierced the gloomy air when he would lay to rest
I heard his breath and strength was dried up like grass that has not met rain for some time, his naked body was limbed and emaciated on that cross, red marks where more visible than flesh

I heard the hammer could be heard for miles as it once again drove nails into his wrist on that mount as he screamed “Abba Abba!” 
Every nerve, muscle, tendon, paralyzed from the epicenter of three nails, he was disjointed
i heard he was beaten to the point of no recognition

I heard he walked through the heart of the earth for three days 
His heart was ready to take on the centuries of sin to come and for me when he died
I heard i was on his mind
I heard u were on his mind too
But how?
I guess when you die, everyone u love runs through your mind....

I heard that the hem of the robe he wears today is marked with cleansing. I heard a foreshadow could have been seen when a bleeding woman stretched for his hem. 
I heard that one day we can wear garments of righteousness. Not a scarlet robe but one of white. Because his blood cleansed us pure.

Yes, I heard a lot of things. But I  thought it was worth sharing 
But if no one told me about his death and resurrection I wouldn’t have found the true definition of love a dictionary couldn’t answer

Neither would I have known royal blood runs through these veins, and that the payment of my sins doesn’t have to be in hell, with his blood I was forgiven, and most of all that the Son of the living God laid down his life that I may live for him. so let his blood drip drip and make me clean.
I heard that I may also speak of his great love.

You heard?

Guide that inspired this poem: