The Stations of The Cross - Thirteenth Station
Jesus dies on the cross.Mark 15: 34 – 37
A man on a cross is about to die,
While the world seems to be holding its breath.
On the hill the afternoon sun grows dim –
Suffused red, to those gathered for his death.
It seems he is taking the light with him.
In the suspense comes the startling cry:
“Eloi, eloi, lama, sabachthani!”
The soldiers pause and look up from their dice.
Their Centurion asks from John an explanation
Of that cry – with its awful desolation,
When before he had promised a paradise?
None there could then know the crowning sorrow,
Of the human cost of the Incarnation.
He grows weak, and is just able to speak,
He thirsts, so a vinegar sponge is held
To his lips, as those around the cross:
Mary, the women, John, can now only watch
As he surrenders into the Logos.
It is time, he can finally let go
“Father, into your hands I now commit my spirit”.
He bows his head: “It is finished”.
I heard him cry, before he died.
Then came that dread darkened sun,
And the rushing wind, so uncanny,
That my men were spooked, and some fled.
But no, a spear thrust in his side,
Ensured that their Messiah had died.
Maybe he was their god’s son, though I
Won’t deny, an innocent man perished.
Image from Wikimedia Commons: Jörn Droemann.
© D G Moody 2023
Poetry by D G Moody
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Written on 2023-04-12 at 17:19
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