When I think of the choice
That you made before the world
In the portals of Glory, answered “yes”.
I am moved at the centre
Of my being, ripped and moved,
By a God-Son come so low
To bleed and bless.
There was nothing yet formed
Not a star or wave or stone
And the moving things of earth a simple thought.
But the Father saw a family
Bringing praise and battered crowns
For the liberty of love
Your wounds had bought.
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