Isaiah 53

He has borne our griefs
Borne our griefs and carried our sorrows
We esteemed Him stricken, smitten by God
Smitten by God and afflicted

All we like sheep have gone astray
We have turned, every one to his own way

He was wounded for our sins
He was crushed, He was beaten
He made payment for our peace
And by His stripes we are all healed

For His Father was pleased, He has put Him to grief
When You sacrifice His soul, He will see His seed

wind love

the wind carries snow like a mother

she lays it down to sleep softly in streets

its innocence slumbering over cities

covering tracks, trash, filth, histories: like love

it melts, it soils, she covers it again.