I beg for the answer that you never give to know why you don't answer, but only forgive

From below is not too low
A tree, a beard, a vine on the brow

Magnetic minds call him out all alone
while the fruitless seek his tomb

I can't follow what they say saves
If I naught to feel what my soul craves

The follower has now become the fallen
and my voice dies below the bellow

Life is called upwards to light
that is falling from fast holds

don't carve your name in his cross
it's already written on his hand
on a secret rock at plan's end

Rise from below to see what is not
the God I didn't forget,
just the Sage of my wrong thought

My value not hidden in the Cross
just found by it
after Creation's first loss

Trees of Life wrap the cause of death
but the calling back abundant
of leaves that now give life,
before life's first gasp of breath

Is that the tree that grows up
does it unfurl its leaves of glory

to fall down
to heal nations
to meet him in the soil,
near the roots of our toil?

I beg for the answer that you never give
to know why you don't answer, but only forgive


"An ascending Christology starts with Jesus as a man in real history and gradually demonstrates that the works he accomplished could only be possible if he was more than a man."  - Dr. Timothy C. Tennent