PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

He fears, like any man on planet earth

Approaching horror, and sweats drops of blood

That will redeem mankind and lift the curse,

And keep the soil of continents  bedewed.



Behold! God fears like men of common clay,

By choice He fears this Savior to redeem

And in the dusky  garden kneels to pray

While  silent are the choirs of  seraphim.



Disciples snooze, shut-eyed in dormancy,

The flesh is weak,- they will not share with Him,  

The hour of his nearing agony,-

The moon behind the trees is wane and  dim.



Fists pounding hard the earth,- dismay-

Sinister rustlling  foliage,- Oh,- He fears:

“Please Abba take this  bitter cup away!”

His heart is crushed, His face is stained with tears.



His flowing matted hair is drenched with sweat

Beneath the gnarled ancient olive tree.

Sinister mists are dancing round His head,-

Flit through the Garden of Gethsemane.



Short-sighted painters - you that paint this Christ,

At prayer, self-possessed, composed, tranquil,-

No brush could have such anguish lionized,

Convulsed, prostrate in grips of deadly chill.



Behold! - the solitary figure knelt,-

Foreboding  shadows spectral phantoms sneer,-

Abandoned to dark powers while He felt

The hour of the sacrifice draw near.



More human never has the world seen God,-

Ask the Almighty  if He can perceive

The  pain of Jesus kneeling in the sod,

And emphasize with  so much pain and grief.                                                  





© Elizabeth Dandy