Saved by Caitlin N. Crook

He was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon His was the punishment that made us whole, and by His bruises we are healed. -Isaiah 53:5 NRSVCE 

I kneel, the gritty sand 

Course beneath my bare knees and hand, 

The sun scorching against back 

Ready to burn. 

Sweat pours and fear hammers 

Through my nervous system 

Like a mad horse’s hooves. 

The ground is painted in long shadow, 

The stretched crowd geering– 

My enemies, jaws agape with laughter like rats 

And the executioner, whip gnarled and raised. 

I grit my teeth, knowing I can’t survive the lashes, 

Knowing they are deserved. 

He raises it, but instead of pain, 

I feel reprieve from the sun. 

Still the harsh snaps of the whip sound 

Again and again and again 

The whip comes down, 

But it doesn’t touch me. 

I open my eyes, stunned to see 

A shadow cast over me. 

Turning my head, I see him. 

He is crouched over me, 

Shielding my frail body 

With his own, 

Taking the blows meant for me. 

I don’t know what to say until 

I see his blood pooling 

In his shirt, dropping 

On the sand around us.


I want to tell him no– 

This man has earned no punishment; 

Why should he take mine? 

But his eyes 

Arrest me–stopping my words 

beforeI can utter them. 

‘It must be’ 

His eyes young, yet 

Infinitely old tell me. 

Pain and love 

Entermingle in those eyes 

AndI feela conflict 

Of thankfulness anda shame; 

Joy in knowing he’s save me; 

Such sorrow at knowing his pain. 

I shut my eyes, tucked 

Beneath his protective arm. 

He says, ‘It is finished’ 

With gentleness that pricks my eyes. 

I look. 

Gone is the blood, 

The executioner, 

Every evil thing. 

A quiet stillness– 

In suchI cannot be afraid. 

He take my hand 

And pulled me up into his embrace 

AndI feel safe…free.


Caitlin Crook is a wife, homemaker, tutor, and writer living in her beloved Mississippi. You can usually find her with a cup of Irish breakfast tea, a dear old copy of Anne of Avonlea close by, and a pink apron on. After receiving her Bachelor's in English from Mississippi State University, she taught public and private school. She has published a handful of poems and an article. Visit her blog at caiteamongwildflowers.wordpress.

Previous
Previous

Poetry BY Hannah Sanders

Next
Next

Poetry by Aberdeen Livingstone