what beauty is hidden for all to see,
if we would seek we would be blinded by it.
what beauty was in his face while he hung
the face that people learned to be the face of the Messiah
contorted and twisted and bloody and painful even to look at
but still showed unmatchable peace.
what beauty was in his eyes
the eyes that looked on children with love
the eyes that looked on a sinful and evil word
and did not punish though he had power and authority
but sacrified himself
what beauty is in those eyes?
for his eyes said more than any poem can
it made hearts sing with more beautiful melodies than we could fathom.
if we were to look in those eyes, even though he was dying,
we would see life.
life that we've never dreamed.
life that need not thirst or hunger.
what beauty is in the scars on his hands.
the hands that he used to serve by washing his disciples feet
the hands that were used to draw a line in the sand where he gave grace
the hands that were used to touch a leper.
the hands that he hung by to serve, fogive, and heal me
what beauty is in the scars on his feet.
the feet that he walked across the earth with
the feet that he walked to undeserving lands
what beauty is in the story of love
who can match such a love
who can fathom such a love
why does this beauty sting our eyes to look at
what beauty is in the heart of the saviour
the heart that did not condemn
but asked forgiveness over the ones who hung him there
asked forgiveness over us
asked forgiveness over me
because i hung him there.
i hung him there and he asked forgiveness over me
that heart that did not condemn,
even as it beat its very last
what beauty is in that heart?
how beautiful is our saviour?