He built a table
With tears in his eyes
Each drop a memory
Strong caring hands had taught him how
Warm loving eyes had cheered him on
On the table he engraved his signature
The last of all
The servant of all
And somewhere, someone was building a cross.
He looked at the table
With tears in his eyes
Joy mingled with sorrow
An old friend bearing the tools of active humility
Friends obliviously feasting while feet he cleansed
At the table he lived out the inscription
The last of all
The servant of all
And somewhere, someone prepared the cross.
I gaze upon a table
With tears in my eyes
Sorrow and joy intertwined
An old friend bearing His Body, His Blood
Constant His presence, permanent His care
At the table I become His endorsement
The last of all
The servant of all
Yoked through his passion proffered on His cross.
Steve Scarrow
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