I am not the only blogger who loves Edward Shillito’s poem, ‘Jesus of the Scars’.
This poem is not perhaps as well known as some great works, but it is as poignant and beautiful as a poetic piece can be. And it can be found gracing the face of many other blogs!
I’m sorry to bombard my readers with poem after poem – but sometimes, it eases some pain to know somebody else has had the same hurt. And I think we have all felt what Shillito was experiencing when he wrote this poem. So please, enjoy. I found the exact words of the poem at a blog called ‘Gratia Veritas Lumen’ – published July 2, 2013
Jesus of the Scars – By Edward Shillito
If we have never sought, we seek Thee now;
Thine eyes burn through the dark, our only stars;
We must have sight of thorn-pricks on Thy brow,
We must have Thee, O Jesus of the Scars.
The heavens frighten us; they are too calm;
In all the universe we have no place.
Our wounds are hurting us; where is the balm?
Lord Jesus, by Thy scars, we claim Thy grace.
If, when the doors are shut, Thou drawest near,
Only reveal those hands, that side of Thine;
We know to-day what wounds are, have no fear,
Show us Thy scars, we know the countersign.
The other gods were strong; but Thou wast weak;
They rode, but Thou didst stumble to a throne;
But to our wounds only God’s wounds can speak,
And not a god has wounds, but Thou alone.