How can we not think about it, offer it up? Everyone suffers, but underneath it all there is this:
Crucifixion: After Psalm 22
The first nail’s piercing painful,
It punctures flesh and bone;
The second breaks the other hand,
Immovable like stone.
I scream and cry for mercy,
For the presence of my God,
But no one comes to save me
From this painful path I’ve trod.
Someone’s holding down my feet,
I see the mallet raised,
I feel the point of entry
As my flesh is lightly grazed.
The soldiers look up laughing
At their feigned and foolish blow;
Not one has human sympathy;
They just enjoy the show!
The mallet finds its target;
The third nail finds the wood
Blood spurts from my ravaged feet,
The world’s misunderstood.
I try to move my body,
The pain is hard to bear;
The crown of thorns pierces my flesh
As I’m thrown into the air.
I moved once through the cosmos
Tossing suns with cosmic glee;
I’m pinned now on this wooden cross:
Lord, Why hast Thou forsaken me?
Almost a Sonnet:
Growing Darkness,
Desperate Plea
The Light of day is wounded, Lord;
Please help me to see clearly.
The Light of day has dimmed too much;
Help us who love you dearly.
Though after all it’s not the light,
It’s not the heavy morning haze
Or flock of birds or passing cloud—
No, it’s my own distracted gaze,
And failure to unthread this maze
That makes this plea so desperate!
Help me, Lord, to see the Light;
Restore my proper vision.
Let me not be lost within
This vale of dark derision!
Death
Death is truly unkind
It decimates our friends;
In the end it leaves us
Too grave to make amends!
Death will too soon come for me
Knock softly at my door;
Inky darkness shrouds him,
It’s darkness to the core.
I cannot see beyond the vale
To that eternal shore,
Where judgment true awaits me,
And ones whom I adore.
Life is quite unstable,
Full of ups and downs;
Death is just the final move,
Where down is empty darkness
And up is towards God’s crown.
