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
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