As you climbed the hill
I saw your face, gentle and kind
As you were jostled by the crowd.
You stood and talked with them
About blessed things and being meek and mild;
How they should be peacemakers,
And they were blessed if they were persecuted in your name.
The beauty of your gentle face
And the wisdom you spoke,
Touched my heart with a holy grace.
As you climbed the hill
I saw your face, blood-stained
And contorted with the pain,
As you were jostled and jeered at by the crowd.
You struggled beneath the weight of the Cross,
But you stopped to speak to the weeping women,
And told them not to weep for you,
But weep for their children.
The beauty of your gentle face
You imprinted on Veronica’s cloth.
The whole scene touched my heart
With an indescribable grace.
I saw you on the first hill,
And I saw you on the second.
And when I saw how they treated you
I just couldn’t understand.
But still you climbed the hill.
It was the Father’s will.
Thank you Jesus for all you did for us,
As you climbed upon the hill,
To die upon a rough-hewn Cross.
© 2017 Rosalie Annette Bourke
