Friday, April 22, 2011

Day 247, some 2000 years ago

Some two thousand years ago
no matter what you held to
no matter who you prayed to
a man lie dying on the cross
there was retching and pain
cursing, jeers meant to kill
in case the nails didn't
somewhere in the city was
a mother rubbing damp
corn silk hair with her calloused
palms a wife looked longingly
at a husband who looked at her
but didn't look at her somewhere
in that town someone was sick
enough to die but refused
still he suffered on the cross
and whether they knew him as
Rabbi, master or blasphemer
the earth shook and the brilliant
sky fell dark. Disciples and loved
ones scattered, their hopes nailed
and dead. They would regroup
and no matter what it is you
believe they left him and wondered
what on earth was next, wondered if
there was a next
they feared for their own lives
questioned their choice, maybe,
doubted their results, most certainly
and no matter what you hold to
they fled, Jesus died and on that particular
Friday, that black sky, earth shattering
day something changed drastically
though on that exact day
no one knew just what

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