Poetry

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© Bob Barra, 8-25-06

He’s dead;
They were afraid and hid;
The powers that be
Still had the taste of blood in their mouth,
And wanted more;

All their hopes were lost,
And their gloom only mocked them
In their confusion;

This wasn’t the first time they felt this way;
They often felt confused with what He said,
What He did;
Why was He silent?
He had a chance to clear things;
When He spoke, it only meant trouble for Him,
And they condemned Him;

So they kept the doors locked,
And locked their hearts with despair;

“Oh, that the salvation of Israel would come out of Zion!”*

They couldn’t even look at one another in that room,
Where they spent their last night with Him;
They thought in doing so, they would see their
Own foolishness;

And the way He died:
In shame, forgiving His enemies;
Speaking mercy to a condemned man;
Seeing to His mother’s care;

Still reaching out,
While His hands were nailed down,
This leader died naked and humiliated;
This was the One they had followed;

Hope seemed gone;

The Sabbath came,

Then came Sunday...



*Psalm 14:7

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