I Dreamt That I Was In Calvary

By Jerris Joseph Sunny

I dreamt that I was in Calvary.

The stench of the blood stained Earth,

still permeated in the evening air.

More was the fragrance of victory over death,

made possible by the blood that flowed on it.

I dreamt that I was in Calvary.

The desperate cry of the saviour,

still echoed in that mount of sorrows.

The shriek which was met by silence.

The stones spoke of the wailing of the mother,

whose son writhed in pain on that tree.

I dreamt that I was in Calvary.

Where the eyes can still see gruesome crime.

The punishment which the guilty scantily deserve,

the sight of our saviour king helpless and meek.

I saw there the magnitude of God's love,

recognised then only by a heathen centurion.

I dreamt that I was in Calvary.

The rough ground stung my bare feet,

the ground where our saviour was flung.

Where metal pierced his sacred limbs,

on the altar of the ultimate sacrifice,

barren and devoid of any splendour.

I dreamt that I was in Calvary.

The strong melancholy there filled my soul.

The anguish of the holy women hung in the air,

which could break down the coldest of hearts.

My soul about to explode into smithereens,

unable to fathom this inexplicable love.

Then I saw from the mount the open tomb,

and I understood the cost of salvation,

realised by the suffering borne by the Lamb.

By Jerris Joseph Sunny