08 Mar Diadem of Adam’s Curse (The Crowning with Thorns)
Behind the cloak of scarlet, purple thread,
The holy blue of God is manifest
And mocked again in worship falsely led,
But once derided becomes once confessed.
We labor ground for thistles, work for thorns,
And bear the diadem of Adam’s curse;
In pity, God ensnares One by His horns
On Mount Moriah, past Scriptures rehearse.
Behold the Man, indeed, behold ourselves,
Reflected poignant: tired, tortured, bare,
Bound, and ordained for death, for which He delves
To spare the spitting crowd in palace square.
With poise He bravely takes the foreign crown,
His blood anoints His head and trickles down.