I turned water into wine, purified in the veins
of My own body. I climbed mountains, healed
crowds of hunger, warmed a leper’s skin. For
you I chastised leaders, halted stones, wrote on
the ground each word contained in Love.
I overturned unfair prices and low wages, tabled
discussions about who’s first or last, and enjoyed
the most unlikely company.
Before My execution, I tamed a donkey, became
your beast of burden, then bled from every pore.
Once for all, I buried death, and, when I arose,
some saw Me. Some heard Me as I broke through
the veil, cloaking time and eternity, and, yes,
for you, I’d do it all again.