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Easter: Crowned in thorn by War Cry editor Nigel Bovey

Nature’s defenders Of blood-red bloom in palace park And barren brier On common ground.

Enrobed from flax - Pale fibre of death Birthed in blood-soaked, Bitter soil Of wasteland.

Gifted a reed By bloodthirsty cynics - A serpentine sceptre Grown on the margins Of watery grave.

Crown, robe and reed: His vestments in death, Investment of life Laid down.

Barren or bitter, Magisterial, marginalised, We share common ground. Human nature crowned him.

Sinful nature crucified him, Our sin nailed him to the cross.


From his thorn Our flesh can see God. In his robe We can be adorned. By his death We can share his life.

Nigel Bovey

War Cry 30 March 2013 Photo credit: Kippa Matthews/York Mystery Plays