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The Stations of The Cross - Fourteenth Station

Jesus laid in the tomb.

Mark 15: 46,47

Gently,gently, let him down,
Help us lift his thorny crown.
Wipe the blood from his face,
He shall no longer be abased.
Lay him upon a cloth of linen,
Let them pass, the weeping women,
To anoint him as undefiled,
Their tender love, as to a child.

The pity of it, I Joseph of Arimathea,
Could only do what was right so late.
A disciple, but in secret, for fear
Of the Sanhedrin I had to placate.
Yet I never consented to his death,
Instead, I sought permission from Pilate,
To lay him to rest, in a tomb near here;
It being new, it was the least I could do.

For the love of him, I Mary Magdalen,
Came here with his mother and others,
To be with him – he who never sinned.
More than I know, if he was the Messiah,
He taught me love – the blessing from above.
And for that those men nailed him to a tree,
For the truth their blind pride could never see.
I will follow with Mary, to his tomb.

Wrapped in linen, placed on a cart,
His body is taken away,
To the tomb where he will lie.
While the others must depart,
The two Mary’s settle down.
For a while, they will stay.

Image from Wikimedia Commons: Jörn Droemann.

© D G Moody 2023

Poetry by D G Moody