. . . I sit silent, cold alone the path you trod–the constant stone that never speaks or feels the prod of human hearts, or sees their nod. So quietly I bear the load the stone of house, or open road. – But here today I feel the thrill of royalty, of ancient will how […]
Read more "If These Keep Silent…"Far away the wings of morning lingered long in darkened hall. Wreathed in murky gloom the promise just beyond our reach and call. Then a shaft of God-borne sunlight, Morning star where night had fled broke the bounds of death and darkness Christ has risen from the dead! – CHORUS: See our death and darkness […]
Read more "Your Light Arises"I. Death loomed large the great triumphant and eagerly its maw opened up for Jesus. II. Death slept well in silent sureness snoring sound on bones three days since eating Jesus. III. Death woke shocked, a guard embarrassed snapped like iron bars. Jesus walked away…triumphant. – – – Photo by Jonny Gios on Unsplash
Read more "Three Days"Why did He die hanging there against the sky? The evil witness stood and lied, Peter swore, and trice denied. Why did Jesus die? – Why was He torn for crimes He never once had worn? The crush and pierce of razor thorns He bore amid the sins and scorns. Why was Jesus torn? – […]
Read more "Why?"it was very dark so trees reared up like monster men with mouths that gaped—in giant maws but dark. and close. and stark. – the night was starbled bright! a legion full of many men like scuttering roaches in the light and sticks and staves and might. – “Jesus come, step near.” the ringing call […]
Read more "It Was Very Dark"What was it like to wash the feet of sarcastic Thomas? Or hear bombastic Peter claim, by withholding, his superiority? Or what to smell the earthy mix of sweat and dirty toes while awkward glances flitted round? Or what to wash the traitor’s feet? Did he pull back or full extend, eagerer than anyone to […]
Read more "What Was It Like?"Long like thought, the water swirls. Deep the flow of life and death. Deep his thoughts, where Pilate sits in steaming mirror circles round. – Deep the flow of life and death. Deeper still the war inside. In steaming mirror circles round, he hears the spittled screams and shouts. – Deeper still the war inside […]
Read more "If Only…"Here at crimson dawn he prays, the sounds of morning, futures near. Beside, a honeysuckle’s curled like serpentine around a pole as far away a restless chaos rides the breeze. – Low, a patterned spokenness: rising pleas and murmured, earnest prayer. A form in quiet conversation lone. Just away, a vineyard tower, Tended by the […]
Read more "Sunday Morning"The body, languid, lowered from on high lies heavy, cold, and formless on the earth. The voice that drove the temple doves to sky the kingly hope— lies strangled in its birth. So all deceivers living in the dearth of truth will ever be. And now instead the rightful rulers: scribes and men of worth […]
Read more "That Deceiver Said…"The rumble thunder far away the sky gone grey and stone the wind path still…………………like holding breath as sits the leaden, sober stress: I stand vibrant here and live because He bled. For me. – The shrugs and shirks—the lethargy, the bow and bend to idle sins pursued with passion down the path or sometimes! […]
Read more "Substitute"
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