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Passions in Poetry

A Man of Sorrows (Isaiah 53)

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Michael
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since 08-13-99
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0 posted 07-17-2011 05:36 PM       View Profile for Michael   Email Michael   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to Submit your Poem to Passions  View IP for Michael

A Man of Sorrows


To whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?
And to how many will He remain concealed?
He grew up before Him, a tender shoot…
Without stately form, from parched ground a root.
No majesty that we should look upon,
Nor appearance that the worldly would fawn.
Who yet meets our message with belief
Of a man of sorrows, aquatinted with grief?

He was despised – forsaken of men,
Yet He Himself was to bear our sin.
Though like one from whom men hide their face,
Interceding for transgressors, He took our place.
We esteemed Him not, yet our grief He bore…
Knowing full well what was in store.
We viewed Him as stricken, smitten of God, afflicted!
Managing to ignore all prophecy depicted.

Yet He carried our sorrow, pierced for our transgression,
Taken away by our own judgment and oppression.
Crushed for iniquity, ours!  Chastened for our well being…
How many yet deny the words they’re seeing?
For by His scourging we are healed,
Yet the truth lies unbelieved – unrevealed.
All of us, like sheep, having gone astray.
Each of us turning to our own way.

But the iniquity of us all
Upon a man of sorrows did fall.
A lamb led to slaughter, having done no violence…
He opened not His mouth, but only offered silence.
Cut off out of the land of the living,
No deceit within himself to be giving;
Wicked men yet to His grave were assigned,
In the tomb of a rich man, still much maligned.

The Lord, pleased to crush Him – put Him to grief,
Knowing it would not be without relief…
If He would render Himself a guilt offering,
His days would be prolonged – He would see His offspring.
The good pleasure of God prospering in His hand,
A result of anguish but He could understand.
He will see it, and then He will be satisfied
In knowledge of the Righteous One at His side.

But one servant to justify the many,
The whole of our iniquity bore within He.
Allotted by God a portion of the great,
Dividing spoil with the strong sharing His plate.
Because He poured out Himself unto death,
Numbered with the transgressors in His dying breath,
Bearing sins of the many, the arm of the Lord revealed.
To how many yet does He remain concealed?

Who yet would deny this prophecy
Written some six hundred eighty years B.C.?


Michael Anderson

11-7-10

© Copyright 2011 Michael Anderson - All Rights Reserved
Mysteria
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since 03-07-2001
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1 posted 08-03-2011 01:24 AM       View Profile for Mysteria   Email Mysteria   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Mysteria

To how many yet does He remain concealed?

Beautifully done Michael.  How many?  More than we would ever imagine.
suthern
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on the threshold of a dream


2 posted 08-25-2011 03:01 PM       View Profile for suthern   Email suthern   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for suthern

For by His scourging we are healed,
Yet the truth lies unbelieved – unrevealed.

There are those who will deny the prophecy, just as they deny the One who fulfilled it.

Beautiful work!
JL
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since 04-01-2004
Posts 5938
Texas, USA


3 posted 04-09-2012 01:57 PM       View Profile for JL   Email JL   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for JL

Very impressive write.
And in the last days He will pour-out
His Spirit upon all flesh.
And, more will we acknowledge
Him and give Him glory and praise
in that time.

Love the write, my friend.

JL

Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul,and with all your mind. Love your neighbor as yourself.
Maranatha!

luminosity
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since 11-18-2005
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4 posted 06-28-2012 03:34 PM       View Profile for luminosity   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for luminosity

beautiful!!!!!!
Honeybee
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since 12-26-1999
Posts 5512
Ontario, CANADA


5 posted 12-27-2012 12:56 AM       View Profile for Honeybee   Email Honeybee   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Honeybee

Isaiah 53 has aways been one of my favourites.Love this, wonderfully expressed. It's a keeper

"Poetry is not an opinion expressed. It
is a song that rises from a bleeding
wound...or a smiling mouth"
~Kahlil Gibran~

 
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