When Love Runs Red
by Tracey Dyck
When Love comes down to authored world—
Conceived within a virgin girl,
Laid to rest in bed of straw—
Come to satisfy the law . . .
When Love walks with the least of these
And answers blind men’s searching pleas;
Touches lepers, calls forth the dead,
And finds no place to rest His head . . .
When Love endures the scoffers’ words,
The hatred by His enemies stirred;
And bows to take a crown of thorns,
The cross upon His shoulders borne . . .
When Love climbs up that hill of death
And cries forgiveness with final breath—
When wrath of God on Him does fly
And night engulfs the weeping sky . . .
When Love runs red down rugged beams
And wrongs are washed by scarlet streams,
When blackest sinner becomes white,
Declared by God to be made right . . .
How can our hearts not drown in this?
This flood of grace, redemption’s kiss?
How can we not succumb to Him?
In light of this, all else grows dim.
When Love emerges from the grave,
Makes children of the serpent’s slaves,
The victory won, the chasm spanned,
In glorious light we Beloved stand.