That Noble Death

By Janelle Hil

Crimson, gold
Their riches fall and flutter to the ground,
A blend of perfect colours -
Orange, yellow, red and green
Are splendorous in the sky.
And yet these noble autumn jewels,
That come with winter’s bite,
Are more rare and lovely
In their death
Than in their emerald life.

Blood
The riches of His being, crimson on the ground
Glistening on His golden brow
More noble for it’s thorns.
And yet this man, His splendour gone
Is beautiful in His death.
For His life is given –
A sacrifice,
Like that of autumn’s leaves.

And so I find
That noble death
More lovely than noble life,
Is found upon an autumn tree -
The blessed Jesus Christ.