A Lovely Man
He was a lovely man; I was not a follower
But I was a believer in his Godliness and his goodliness.
His name was Jesus, and I knew he did not deserve to be there.
Nailed to a cross. It was excruciating to watch.
I had known him but a day or so, but he had been kind.
He had taken a moment to listen and to smile.
I was one of the servers at his meal and it was a pleasure to meet him.
He was appreciative and thanked us. Humble, unassuming, sweet.
I asked my mother why such a man would be on a cross.
She was as confused as I was; but we knew better than to ask.
I had to turn away, it was too hard for me to bear.
I prayed for the man, the one many said was God’s son.
I turned back for one last look. There were angels. Their wings had covered him.
I said to my mother “Look!”
She turned. “What am I looking at?” she asked me.
“The angels!” I shrieked. They are covering Jesus.
She put her hand over my mouth to shush me. She knew the laws.
I could have been stoned to death for what I saw.
Pontius Pilate could be listening for all we knew.
I felt better after I saw the angels, knowing Jesus was safe.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2021
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment