Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Poem #20


They're taking him
from me
You're taking him
from me

They bind him with rope
strip away his clothes
whip him whip him whip him
like a criminal
like a murderer
like Barabas a year ago

For loving you--
some God that no one
has seen, all this blindness
rampant like a disease
Watch your disciples
scatter like mice
into the shadows
No one claims him
No one will defend him

This was your will
This was your word
but must there be so much suffering
Must I watch him crumple
like an olive tree without water
Watch him stumble
under the weight of so much wood
Watch him get nailed
like a sign, hanging
in the sun
What mother can bear this?

There is nothing good
about this day.

[A hurried poem. I'm running late. There is more to this poem...]

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