The Penitent Thief Speaks to Christ on the Cross.
My Lord and King, whom I know not, yet know,
Though choked with gore I now confess Thy reign,
And see, through all those streams of blood that flow
Across Thy face, Thy majesty so plain.
My noxious, tainted blood now cleanses me
Where only ere I turned to Thee, its curse
Had added torment to my cries, as we,
From our two crosses, suffer, yet converse.
For, I, not knowing Thee before this hour,
Repentant, baptized, pardoned and absolved,
Feel consolation, like a summer shower,
Refreshing me. Yet, something’s unresolved:
That Woman at Thy feet, she seems to pray
For me… that I see Paradise, this day.
From Sonnets for the Queen of Heaven
© Joseph Charles MacKenzie. All rights reserved.
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