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At A Lingering Moment Near Golgotha
That cross is empty. Weeping mourners carried
Jesus across Rome's dirt road to be buried
in Joseph's unused tomb. I stayed behind
trying to reconcile, or be resigned
to, this unspeakable experience,
nine hours or more of blood-curdling suspense.
Thoughts' wild trajectories storm through my mind.
He walked and talked among us all these years.
He made our burdens lighter, wiped our tears
away, and spoke calm peace to our old fears.
Look at the cross: its sign bears Jesus' name.
Its rugged wood is streaked with His blood's stain.
And we stand idly by, to our great shame.
What future can we hope, now, to obtain?---
bereft, now, of the comfort of His presence.
Our lives will be like old men's convalescence:
trembling and weak, until death stakes its claim.
Starward
Adelphoi Adaptations
Brother, Sister, Dolls. Wade the treachery
Winter speaks pure like amend of snow trail
Moments for feature only swept by mind.
We've itch to signify standards of twine.
Twins of the burden wine, we've creating
Reformation and every nuance;
Neverendless wont of eternity
For which reason again? The Messiah
Savior and Salvation stays certainly.
bananas are the perfect food
for prostitutes