Diadem

I can’t believe, I hadn’t seen the truth of this before
I can’t believe how obvious this simple metaphor;

“Cursed be the ground because of you, and for your sake,
For with it you will till and toil, and fight from it to take:

Your daily bread, your livelihood, provisions and your purpose
Since you found enjoying endless fruits in my presence to be worthless.

Thistles, now your burden, bear brambles as your lot
Heavy under your own weight, is the dust in which you’ll rot”

These dire consequences have fallen to us all
It seems the wage of sin is death, a slow embarrassed crawl

To our own deserving end, mortality it is.
Too bad, considering in the beginning Life was His

To give and take away, and He gave and we have squandered
Abandoned hope, created idols, and for years and miles wandered…

-

We know all that, so what’s the point? I’ll bring it back around:
The cross, in all it’s terrible glory, is even more profound 

Than I have known so far, but I guess that’s no surprise
Despite how often I’ve looked on with salty, grateful eyes

Now, the only thing that citizens can offer to a king,
Is all they have, the best, so their best is what they bring

The diadem of glory, the majesty’s chosen jewel
The piece he dons to represent the dominion of His rule

To those of us who tell ourselves, “We’ve got so much to offer!”
Hang on, let us put that in perspective that is proper:

As humble and as righteous as we may (in moments) be
He’s infinitely greater, that’s… just reality

And to those who don’t acknowledge He’s the King it fits as well
Since all have sinned, fall short, and are headed straight for-

So He wears our burden on his head, our pain, our sin, our thorn
Appropriate that a sacrificial lamb be so adorned. 

The byproduct of our burden, the consequence of curse
How pathetic is our best, how painful is our worst 

So on His brow, our sin, the thorn, brought up from cursed ground
And what makes Him King above all Kings, is that He chose to bear that crown

-March 2019