An Easter Poem

He spoke and all torch fire, clubs weld, they collaps’d

He stood man-God; brow bled in prayer this night.

They soldiers, priests repeat the Name despatch’d

Who’s he? All know; his Words through dark are sight

Jesus, Messiah, “I told you I Am he”

How many dug seed wells then dirt and down?

As olive bark crowds eyes beneath the tree

Then rise, arms hung, lit leaf and face and crown

His friend’s kiss; where soon palms will turn by plan

The grounded step, stand back, oh see or flee!

To look so close at God, and not know the Man.

Empire and Jew holds breath, one word it may be

He loses none given, he will be seiz’d

“Buy Sword”, The Rock for King will learn to fight

Blade thuds, ear lifts as dirt, belief receiv’d?

They lead him bound to drink the cup in Might!

The Garden pressed and caught on back and knee

Cloak weave and under nail, Gethsemane

That night of torch, dark soil, plant light as day

Did tumble memory as brushed away

at barrack, court and wood post three?

Twig or fruit, recall, you fell, you can be free

Did some who collaps’d under olive leaves

carry sapling dirt, see God and believe?

It’s Finished.

His legs won’t break, won’t kneel; pierced heart, crown, hand and heel.

The Gardener knelt with towel the very day before

with dust and feet, the Branch; Dead, then never dead more.

(the poem is inspired in particular by John: 18)