Cross

Would Taste For the Sins of Us All

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In the garden the serpent showed me the fruit
With a beauty and fragrance within
But I did not know that its razor-sharp seed
Lay hidden down under its skin

It glowed with desire and was sweet to the taste
With a promise of wisdom and powers
But its poison-tipped blade cut right to my heart
Leaving sin among withering flowers

Oh where is the healing, and where is the balm
For my heart and my soul and my mind?
A pathway to carry me all the way home
And the Father who I left behind

Then suddenly I saw I was there at the cross
And I wept at the wound in His side
And the nails and the crown and the noise of the crowd
And His blood that flowed down like the tide

 I saw in His hand was the husk of that fruit
Filled with vinegar and bitter gall
That was pressed to the lips of my Savior that He
Would taste for the sins of us all
Would taste for the sins of us all

They gave him vinegar to drink mingled with gall: and when he had tasted thereof, 
he would not drink.” Matthew 27:34 KJV

"Would taste for the sins of us all"
by Peter Caligiuri
Copyright © 2025
All rights reserved

God Gently Stooped

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The sixth day in morning
The Lord God stooped down
Ans scooped clay from the earth
To form man from the ground
He bent down lower still
To breathe life into him
Then smiled to see – Man’s first day begin

Then one night in Bethlehem
He stooped down once more
And came into our world
Above a stable floor
Then bent lower still
To give His life for us
Breathing out His last– On Golgotha’s hill

Then friends came to take Him down
And laid Him in the tomb
Gently wrapped in cloth
Then left for their home
But God bent once more
To where Christ lay alone
Gently stooping down – Rolling back the stone

God Gently Stooped
by Peter Caligiuri
Copyright 2023 All rights reserved

The Second Mile

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And if anyone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles. Matthew 5:41 ESV

After the first mile that He traveled
He rested on the hay
Where Mary gently laid Him
At the ending of the day

As a carpenter of Nazareth
Ordinary like them all
No one knew that He was waiting
On His Holy Father’s call

To walk a second mile
Ending nothing like the first
Where nails and thorns would pierce Him
While soldiers did their worst

Till His suffering would finish
And friends laid Him in a cave
Not knowing His second mile would start
When He rose up from the grave!

The Second Mile by Peter Caligiuri
Copyright © 2025 All rights reserved