RANSOMED / by Joseph Castorino

I really deserve to die,

for my sins are far, far more

multitudinous even than the

grains of sand in the Sahara.


On execution day, I stand

before the cross, terrified,

but then you ransom me and,

amazingly, you take my place.


Your holy blood rushes in a river

of Divine Mercy from the cross,

and, behold, you miraculously

make me new, and I’m born again.