Thursday, April 17, 2014

Holy Thursday (after dark)

Gardens at night

Tears flowing like blood,
sorrow sinking like mud,
purpose sure,
loving life pure.
Giving all for life,
fearful of such strife,
not quite ready for the knife,
agape for chosen wife.
Another could do this, not true?
Why not another, why me and you?
Do not abandon, won’t survive if you do.
Almost ready to be unleashed to the zoo.
All this must happen, musn’t it?
My friends won’t survive the bottomless pit.
Remind them to not turn back or wait and sit;
make their hearts pure, minds sound, and spirits fit.
So much awaits, but the end so daunts;
what nightmares I’ve had, a vision that haunts.
Soon ears will hear reckless and vicious taunts;
but no reply will they receive – though it is one of their wants.
Rising, lights awaken me to the end,
they come to take me, men for whom I did not send.
This evil, from a brother who I knew upon not to depend,
for such is the vision I know of lambs I would tend.
Chains and beatings begin,
the kiss to seal the sin,
a battle they cannot win.
Ready as I’ll ever be, I am in.

David Sandler © April 24, 2006
http://indosand.blogspot.com/2006/04/easter-poetry_114589174856539905.html

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