Garden's Gate

Beneath the cross the World assembled
in the Romans, Greeks, and Jews.
The day turned dark and the planet trembled
and like lightning spread the news.

Are gone the shouts of Joy, “Hosanna?”
Gone the talk of Kingdom Comes?
No more dreams of heavenly manna?
Has the bread of Heaven turned to crumbs?

Excitement’s fire turned to ashes,
as blood and sweat rolled down Christ’s brow?
It seemed all hopes now Satan dashes;
questions swirl, What, Why, and How?

The cross, a plough, God’s seed is planted
Faith unseen by flesh takes root.
Though unbelief ‘round God’s Word ranted,
from a tree of death there springs much fruit.  -id