Poetry by Cindy Speltz
Read Cindy's testimony
Read her daughter Jenni's testimony
Calvary’s Climb
Jeered at, mocked and
Teased – Abruptly,
Violently seized;
Stripped bare, wind-
Whipped, thrashed,
Scourged and lashed;
Bruised, battered and
Beaten; Tormented,
Struck, trampled and tossed, blood-soaked tears…beauty lost;
Flesh torn, head thorned, twisted muscles quivered and worn; punctured
Protruding veins, untouchable suffering pains; Weary, ragged
And rope- burned; Countless hearts have no concern; pounding,
Pressing, tumors welt; No man can fathom what Christ felt.
Splinters, spittle, sailing
Jagged rocks; Dislocated
Bones, ripped out hair
Locks; Nails driven deep,
Humiliated and hung;
Suffocating – His Scared
Wounds stung; for all
Mankind, Jesus came to
Save; In His dying
Breath, he forgave;
Simeon’s Proclamation
Of sorrow came to be:
His mother, Mary,
Endured the sword
Courageously.
Cindy Speltz
‘This One Child’
The World had condemned her to certain death,
My innocent child, before she drew her first breath,
Though the way and the path were unknown to me,
Our bond of love and kinship would forever be.
She is sacred and of God, I understood,
This is a child, destined for great good,
How profound is the depth of a little one’s love,
There are no bounds, beyond or above.
Out of fear and darkness, a sin confessed
Becomes the light and life, a child most blessed,
She is the fruit and fragrance of heart,
An awakened soul, a portrait of living art.
My baby girl’s smile is heaven at a glance,
Her blue eyes speak love, far and advanced,
She is a gift, her purpose – divine from the start,
There were no barriers, that could keep us apart.
Her mother’s ‘yes’ to life, would stir opposition,
This one child defeats a culture of division,
Born is she, truth and beauty by grace healed,
In virtue of her being, integrity is revealed.
Cindy Speltz
‘The Gift – Forgotten’
Where are all the children
We reject and refuse,
Under the guise of
‘The right to choose,’
Who will remember
Each and every child – lost,
Oh, what have we done
Who could fathom the cost,
Can you not hear
Their silent screams,
Beyond the hills and
Below the streams,
The gift of little children
Who are no more,
A hidden wound – unhealed
Fatal to the core,
So many are deprived
Of family love and life,
When will it be too late
Reaping enough strife,
Vacant wombs and
Empty hearts
Place no value
On broken bones
And fetal parts,
Where are silent grieving mothers
Who have not given birth,
May your cries be heard
Echoing throughout the earth,
Our nation’s soul
On a quest for death,
May god’s final mercy
Be our saving breath,
All the little children-lost
Would have us forgiven,
Who’ve shed their blood
Are now with God, in Heaven…
Cindy Speltz