Friday, April 6, 2012

Good Friday-Via Peter

They bound him and lead him away.
Rage filled my heart.
I lunged at them. I drew my sword.
I managed to cut off one of their ears before he stopped me
And in all his goodness, held me at bay.
He laid his hand on my shoulder and looked me deep in the eye. “Peace,” said he and then healed the wound of his captor.

They lead him away.
They took him to Pilot.
Who washed his hands clean
Who could blame him?
Who could have such an atrocity
Hanging over their head?

Three times.
Three times, just like he said,
I denied him.
“You were with him!” someone would say.
“No.” I replied, and quickly made my departure.
What if they wanted me, too?

So like a coward, I hid, while the scene unfolded before me.
My best friend, there, in front of the merciless crowd
Who just last week sang his praises.
Blood poured from his head, his back.
He could barely stand, his state so weakened, his body so frail.

I watched from afar as a murderer was released in his stead.
I blended in with the crowd as they chanted,

“Crucify him! Crucify him!”

I hid in denial as they took him up the hill,
As a stranger helped ease his burden,
Until they reached the top

Where the sound of the hammer
Echoed in my ears
Where his screams
Rang out across the land,

I cowered in the back
As they stabbed him in the side
And offered him bitterness
To satisfy thirst.

And in that final moment,
I saw 
The ultimate look of despair,
Gushing through tears,
Running through sweat,
Pouring out through blood and puss
And I heard him give a whimper
As he offered up his spirit

And his body went limp.

And I wailed like the child that I am,
For the horror before me,
And the horror within me.
 curled up in a ball,
Drew my cloak o’er  my face,

And sobbed

And shook

And lost all control

As the thunder crashed on
At the passing of Hope.

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