I Wonder
I wonder what the people thought
who did not know the prisoner's name;
so many men had staggered by
in public solitude and shame,
what was He more than other men
who had walked outside the walls to die,
and those with tears who followed Him--
do not most dead leave some who cry?
I wonder what the children thought,
who just a few short days before
had waved palm branches in the street,
crying, "Hosanna, to the Lord!"
Why was the kindest man they knew,
who understood their ways and needs,
bearing a cross through Jerusalem
like those who did unrighteous deeds.
I wonder what the soldiers thought
who rudely mocked a silent king;
how many flogged and tortured so
had never spoken anything?
Was only one of all who stood
on guard for Rome to watch Him die
able to say with contrite heart,
"This is God's Son; He did not lie."
I wonder what the women thought,
the ones who would not hide in fear
but followed even to the cross
to watch him die through veils of tears.
Did they not know that He could take
their dreams safely through death with Him
and on the third day rise again
triumphant over death and sin.
I wonder what we would have thought
in our self-righteous ignorance;
what role would you or I have played,
if we had known such circumstance?
Would I have been a Pharisee,
or just a stranger passing by,
Herod, Pilate, a Roman guard,
or a Mary on the day Christ died?
© Faye Lanham Gibson, 1987
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
