Easter Sonnet

Roman whips of bale and scourge come to death To spill upon an ancient floor of time Pilate still asked if he was God, confess Hung on a cross to die for man, his crime A selfless burden scribed on scrolls in word These deeds on parchment read with Priest's conceit To challenge this Shephard with words they heard He sat in peace, five loaves, two fish to eat Thirty pieces will tear and bleed his flesh And weigh the scales as right and wrong conflate Behold this cross that milled man's sins to thresh From husks of man, true God will separate " Forgive them " " They know not what they do " Son of Man rose from death he overthrew 3/29/18