Friday 2 April 2010

The Road to the Cross.


The Road to the Cross.

I look up to see
my family and friends
being roughly pushed aside
in the anguish of their cries
my own becomes intensified

I catch faces
in the crowd
blatant defiant
perversely proud

Their eyes ablaze
in a frenzied glare
fists clenched around
clumps of my hair

When purpose
becomes obscured
by chaos
secret doubts
arise to betray us

The human heart
is crushed
by not knowing why
a faithful son
should be left to die

Why expedient plans
of powerful men
conspire to accuse
convict and condemn

Why there is no man
to intercede
and their hatred
is the only
assurance to plead

Why to all the world
this day appears
to have all purpose drowned
in a Mother's tears.

The Cross.

I have walked
on the way of the Cross
where the tangible presence
of a suffocating darkness
falls around like a screen
for the broken in heart
Yet the fingers still pierce
and the distorted faces
betray the malformed
feeling and thought
The grief is so crushing
it shatters the rocks
The thunder attempts
to cry out in pain
The elements gather
in lamentation
as Creation
attends to witness the scene
And what is love
that it can sentence
The Living God to Death
and can that love
make pointing fingers
direct a soul to him
and can that love
make distorted faces
shine in glory
should they walk
on the way of the Cross.

The Neon Cross.

The Neon Cross
Blasts the darkened sky
"It's a matter of opinion"
Says the passer-by
"Some people think it's garish
and some just stand and cry
don't ask them to explain it
because they don't know why"

"I've heard that Christ appeared
for a moment yesterday
and this crowd have gathered
and refuse to go away
They are hungry and thirsty
but still stand and pray
the dispossessed
the disenfranchised
the disassociated
increase in number every day

The neon blasts
the pungent sulphur air
Someone brings some water
another bread to share
and as the people eat and drink
in a mutuality of care
I hear "Corpus Christi"
whispered in a prayer.

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