Poetry

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Oh, Master, when I recall the triumph
Of Your entry into Jerusalem...
The Allelujas...the homage...
The palm leaves at Your feet...
Then human fickleness alters all.....
I bow my head and weep.

Was I one of those, Lord....
Who welcomed You, who honored You
Who paid tribute to You...
Who swore to always be at Your side?
Was I one who,a few days later,
Shouted, "Free Barabbas!"

Was I one of the sleepy ones
Who in the Garden of Your agony
Could not pray with You...for even an hour?
Did I fall into slumber as you went deeper
Into Your pain, Your travail...
More deeply into the Garden....
As Your sweat became ...as great drops of blood
And, even then, began to pay MY ranson?
As You beseeched the Father...
Speaking of a willing Spirit...
But of flesh that was weak...
Did You, also...have ME in mind?

Did I, as surely, as did Judas
Betray You, hand You over, deny You?
And when I examined closely, my misdeeds....
My sins of omission and commission
I answered sorrowfully..."Yes...it was I"
And I bowed my head and wept.

But clothed in Your Divinity
You arose from all I had inflicted...
To arrive triumphantly at greater glory...
And you smiled at me and said...
"Come, my child...go with me...
I love you more than I loved life
So I gave it up for....you..."
And I bowed my head...and wept.

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