How different this garden from the first
As Hope lies face down bleeding,
The weight of all the hours to come
Shroud the joy and unveil the pleading.
I hold out the cup of suffering
The one you beg pass by,
The fathers will not Yours is done
As your will is done not mine.
I am unable to stop the agony
It is not your will I ever should,
So I sit and love you from a distance
What would comfort you, Lord, if I could ?
“Whisper to me of the Glory
Of the day to come when I rise,
Tell me of what this will mean to you
I wish to see it through your eyes”
So I tell you of the wonder to come
How I am only able to be near
Accompany you in your passion
Because of what you suffer here.
I can only mirror the agony
Etched so deeply on your brow
And only know of your desire for me
For the pain you are choosing now.
But that great time of Glory, Lord
Is three short days away,
We will extoll forever Lord
Of what you do today.
For a thousand times a thousand years
We will recount this hour
How you defeated evil and
How death was overpowered
I only know how to love you, Lord
From these moments of laboured breath,
What an honour to lay beside you Lord
As you love me unto death.
