Old peom made new

I was at EFY this past week (read my "I Believe" blog for more info on that) and this poem I wrote years ago often entered my mind. It's also posted in my Metaphor section of poetry, but I wanted to post it again because I have found new meaning in its words.

Tears

I stood in line,

Watched every victim,

Of some sort of trial,

Shed their tears.

One tear for every hardship,

One for every hurt,

For every sin.

And He stood by,

Watching,

Weeping,

Hurting,

Because He loves us.

The tears fall one by one,

Into the cup.

The bottomless cup,

That would overflow.

It came my turn.

The tears fell,

Hundreds of them.

For every sin,

Every trial,

Every hurt.

I bitterly wept,

And He watched,

Knowing,

Understanding,

Hurting,

For me.

I was the last to weep,

And as I shed my final tear,

I looked up,

And He drank of that bitter cup,

As His own tears,

Ran down from his face.

He drank our tears,

My tears.

And he cried them all,

Twofold,

For us. For me.

And I felt my heart lighten,

Brighten,

Because He understood,

And I stood,

Watching,

Knowing,

No longer hurting,

And grateful,

Because He loves me.