Gethsemane Experience
Like a pearl falling into the Pacific, he felt lost.
His human nature shrank and shattered like an autumn leaf.
Blood poured into sweat. Into his core, he was tempest-tossed.
Was he weak yet? Did he feel shaken by his strong belief?
Like cyclones shaking a banyan tree, dilemmas shook him.
The tug-of-war: to do or not to do, poked his conscience.
The whim of escaping all these too came to his heart's brim.
Constantly, all these hours, with his Abba, he did converse.
Of his twelve disciples, a few whom he chose to pray slept.
Was the fact that the soul is strong and the flesh is weak right?
Did their ambitions, which they cared for like rare pets, defect?
Were they, midst divine graces, like guinea pigs, filled with fright?
He knew, being with the Father, that these things would happen.
Doesn't birth in the spring pop up when winter goes barren?
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