The cross of death was

the tree of life.

The crown of thorns was

the crown of victory.

The mocking vinegar was

pre-drinks for the wedding banquet.

The darkness over the land was

the brightest moment in human history.

The pooled blood beneath the cross

washes us clean from our iniquity.

By his wounds we are healed

By his brokenness we are made whole.

His pain cements our joy

His punishment secures our innocence.

He was mocked, we are exalted

He was forsaken, we are embraced.

He endured so we could give up.

He descended so we could reign.

His final breath enabled our newborn cry.

Everything was ugly and lovely.