A Poem For Easter

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Stations of the Cross

 

Over the heads of angry people I saw him, quiet, dignified, still,
but all they did was shout and jeer, their voices loud and shrill.
And then the hush, and then the cheer, when soldiers brought the cross,
the judge then waved, "Take him away", to show them he was boss.

 

I watched the man as he emerged, to the hot and dusty street,
bent down beneath the awful weight, bearing down on back and feet.
Those cruel soldiers urged him on with whips and prods to tease,
until it was too much to bear, and he fell upon his knees.

 

He was a very lonely man, no friend to ease his pain,
the people all around were those, who'd push him down again.
But from the crowd one face emerged, more loving than any other,
he paused and smiled through his ordeal, to greet his weeping mother.

 

And then one man, so brave to see, broke through the guards around,
to lift the cross upon his back, and the man up from the ground.
I heard a voice come from the man, shouting 'Simon of Cyrene'
but it was a short and sad respite; he knew they'd intervene.

 

Quite soon a maiden came to fore, saying "!ook he is so pale:"
and then without a question asked, wiped his face upon her veil.
With tender hands she wiped his brow but in truth she was afraid,
but the man just smiled with whispered thanks, so grateful to that maid.

The cross weighed down with crushing force, on back and feet and toes,
and when he fell a second time, how he got up no one knows.
But somehow strength within him grew, god knows from whence it came,
for I was close as close as I dare, despite my fear and shame.

I stopped when far ahead I heard, great commotion, women wailing,
who ran to see him crying loud, beating breasts and arms a-flailing.
"Don't wail for me," he quietly said, now barely breathing; done;
but cry and pray for sinners all, for these and everyone.

It seemed I saw him look at me, I had to look away,
For I had sinned against that man, had sinned that very day.
But then the crowd, much quieter now, all gasped in shock and awe,
for this time when he fell again, he stayed down on the floor.

Because it was the journeys end, they stripped him where he lay,
he did not try to stop those men, those soldiers at their play.
I watched them as they sold his clothes, with laughter and with mirth;
his few remaining linen drapes, disposed of without worth.

Twas then I saw two other men, tied with rope their arms extended,
upon a wooden cross like his, their bodies rough suspended.
But when they laid my man on his, before they heaved it high,
they fixed him on with nought but nails, then left him there to die.

I could not look, nor could I turn, nor shame could I conceal;
nor could I kneel below the cross, and not my sin reveal.
So from a distance I did wait - I waited till the end;
until all life had gone from him, who once had been my friend.

Through all the day and all the night, I waited till they knew,
and then they took his body down, no more his pain to view.
The soldiers now with conscience dark, their glee replaced with gloom,
allowed his friends to take their man, and lay him in a tomb.

I stood outside the tomb that day, when Jesus Christ had risen,
who's death had brought eternal life; nought could keep him in his prison.
I saw his mother weeping free, talk to angels from above,
who said her son was now in heaven, the world saved by his love.

Then Peter grabbed me asking why, "Judas, was it worth the price?.
"Thirty silver pieces I have heard, to betray your master twice".
I knew it then as I know it now, my purgaty begun,
and then I fell upon my knees, crying "Lord, what have I done?"