These words are an attempt to display the thoughts and feelings I had the moment I stepped off the plane until now.
I held my breath as I walked from the plane to the entry,
I knew for them it felt like I’d been gone a century.
My Mom is the first one I see.
With tears streaming down her face,
I can’t help but know how much she loves me.
Fast forward now,
Past the hugs and cheers.
All though the excitement thank goodness
Has vanquished all my fears.
My Dad notices my shoes and eagerly points down,
Inquiring about the holes, tares, and discolor that has caused his face to frown.
Before I could answer my cousin chimed in a like.
Bringing attention to the bruises on my leg
Indicating a crash or two on my bike.
My Aunt chimes in next almost on cue,
Sticking her finger through a hole in my shirt that had been mended a time or two.
The shoes, the bruises and the wear on my clothes,
How could I even begin to share?
Each represented the labor in behalf of those whom I care.
But even though I had wounds to show,
My mind turns to one who descended to a greater low.
New shoes and clothes can be bought and bruises will eventually fade.
But what about the marks of a son,
In whom victory over death was made?
He’ll come back again in great glory,
In a homecoming so grand mine can’t even compare.
I think of his hands and feet and remind myself,
his pain was almost too much to bare.
His wounds won’t fade over time and certainly can’t be bought anew
For he is the Son of God fulfilling all he had to do.
Examining my marks once again I feel a greater love,
As I realize my experience was only a small mirror of the grand one above.