The Upper Room was hushed that night,
As frightened friends supped their last as one.
Shoving back the morrow
When their leader would be gone.
This is my body—broken for you;
You are my beloved—take my blood, too.
Do this and as oft as you do it,
Do it in remembrance of me.
(A shipman shivered on a night-long watch
The night was warm, but he was not.
“There is a horror in the air breathed he.)
And for you I will go to the tree.
For you, I will give all of me.
(Outside somewhere across the world
A bird stopped singing, dropped its head,
And curled its wings under in a roosting pose.)
Did he know—did he really know
He would rise again and live
He has surely faithed it so!
And with body trembling but heart obedient.
He would go.
(And in the distance a cobbler nailing
Finished his last shoes for the day.)
My soul screams, He silent cries!
By what decree must it be
That I must lie upon a tree and nailed be,
Beaten by the throng—I have done no wrong!
Have You forsaken me—here in my Gethsemane?
(If you can listen, you can hear a
Mother’s lullaby song.)
Father, you chose me for this desperate task
That they may all know Love at last.
Thy will be done.
As We are One.
(The feverish earth turns, dances, sings, sails, nails,
Rocks without eyes – without ears – it spins on.)
Easter is not yet.
Copyright © Sunlite Wanter | Year Posted 2017
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