Blood-red Sunday

A day dedicated to love –
Sometimes I can’t tell if it’s for the abuse of love or its celebration.

The Love I know is blood-red and disfigured,
Lacking the sweetness of chocolates and the beauty of red roses.

The Love I know is naked and priceless,
Its value hidden in virtue, not in the price-tags of fancy red dresses.

The Love I know cries with such sadness that I can’t stand it,
Offering hope and life in a golden cup filled with tears and blood,
Served on a silver platter carved in sorrow and borne by nail-pierced hands.

The Love I know is out of this world and difficult to emulate,
So we make do with pleasant, cheap replacements and transient thrills.

The Love I know isn’t an undying profession,
But a demonstration of transcendence through death.

The Love I know is a fulfillment of promises,
Covering a multitude of wrongs; holding out a hand of help,
And pointing to the path that leads surely to that place we all long for.

The Love I know is the love I want and desire to see,
But it is the love that I’m so rarely able to give.
So I keep hoping and trying, and I know, doubtless,
That one day, I will be made perfect in Love.


#Isaiah 42:1-4
#Isaiah 52:13-15
#I Corinthians 13:4-13
#John 3:16
#Hebrews 12:2-4

11 thoughts on “Blood-red Sunday

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