To day is Good Friday and I find myself thinking...
Via Dolorosa
As I carry my crossThrough my own Via Dolorosa in Life
I am reminded of him,
And I think,
Will I be able to forgive, the way he did?
And say, 'May God forgive them,
For they know not what they do!'
I don't think so...
But, then I think of him,
And keep on climbing...
And when I save a life-
As is my wont-
(being a part of my job)
I dare not think,
'Here is my Lazarus rising...'
Or, fancy myself
as a Messiah of sorts...
But, then I think of him,
And am greatly humbled...
And I keep carrying on...
And when see the dogwood bloom,
shaped like an ivory Maltese cross,
each point dented and tinged with red
an emblem of Christ's crucifixion wounds
I think of him,
And in my heart sets a gloom...
Author: Zoya Zaidi
Aligarh (UP), India
Copyright ©: Zoya Zaidi
Image: Pieta by Michelangelo Buonarroti
Poetry by Zoya Zaidi
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Written on 2007-04-06 at 18:43
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