by J.F. Pringle
A Voice compelled her into darkness unknown.
Afraid, she went in anyway.
And found courage to enter the watery cave:
The place she’d run from every day.
Her trembling hands grasped at the wet walls.
Cold and drab, the stones at her feet.
Her will to go forward was quickened by His.
But a beast for sure, she felt she’d meet.
Deep in the cave, to her alarm,
A beast? No, herself—beaten and torn.
“I feel so lost,” she whispered aloud.
Then looked up and found a Man crowned in thorns.
His hands on her shoulders with love like a fire,
He lifted her up, looked in her eyes.
Her burden was gone, replaced by sweet peace.
He said “No, now you’re found. I followed your cries.”
The cave was alight with the weight of His glory.
Into the water, they made their way,
As One they became, His nature now hers.
He loved his sweet daughter; her night became day.
Her Father forever, His love to behold,
She fancied it better than silver or gold.
Her day of two births, was hers now to claim.
The day that her Lord washed away all her shame.