pivot of the ages ..

who hangs there naked in shame      ?

what wickedness has he done      ?
what violence
what evil
?

who has he injured      ?
who has he murdered
who has he raped
what has he stolen
what bond did he break
?

was it you he assaulted      ?
your mother that he killed
your brother that he murdered
your sister that he raped
?

did he take your stuff as if it was his own      ?
did he lie to deceive
remove you from your throne
?

when did you discover you needed his life gone   ?
displayed in death
   humiliated
   torn ..
?
..


wait .. it wasn't you   ?
then who   ?
who
?

who found him in the temple   ?
   disrupting business as usual
who hated him for saying
   we were doing it all wrong
who is it the people honor with palms
   not knowing what they do
who is it that ran away
   and left him for the high priest's crew
who was it that crowed to the sunrise
   pretending him they never knew
?

who left him all alone      who left him all alone
   all alone
o   o      o
..

but the women knew       the women knew

or even if they didn't know they stood by him with him for him
holding him in their heart
their mind twisted in anguish
   as they regard his twisted form
      through swollen eyes

that this one       this one
   could die so       could die so
o      O      ooo
..


and now he waits in Hades Halls
talking with departed souls
and tomorrow the harrow
the blessed harrowing of hell
..

praise be to God who makes all things new
through this one
this triumphant human      Jesus      the Christ

blessed be his name
..

the cock will crow tomorrow morn
   welcoming the sun to a brand new age
   as the Son of Man walks out the tomb resplendent
      in his new body
         never before worn
            by anyone
            anywhere
            ever

and Mary waits
she can't let go       she can't let go     
she can't believe he's gone ..
o      Oooo      ooo

but soon she will know him again ..

that voice       that voice
same voice that spoke the universe into being
   will call her name in love

Hope has arrived in person
and we cannot deny it
..

and all creation waits
oo oo oo ..
   to be released from corruption
      into the glorious freedom of God's children


and the Son of Man waits
he can't let go      he can't let go
he won't let go      he won't let go
O! O! O!

' good ' friday ..

i never could understand why 'Good' friday ..
and i refuse to look it up today ..
..


the Cross
   is the interruption of the world as we know it
   a sinking vessel sailing to a hellish end
      piloted by blind WealthPower
         gritting his teeth
   with barely an occasional glimmer of Hope
      pronounced by crazed prophets
         in the name of This or That god
         the promise by some of a Messiah
..


but       the Cross ..

still two thousand years later we barely nod in Its direction
   as we fashion new cut flowers into Arrangements For Easter
   and shop for colored eggs and sweet rabbits
      to assuage our galled belly ..


we somehow feel it in the gut
   deep it lies within us
as we dare skip past it ..
how could we    ?
..

there is a cross deep within each of us
   and Christ tells us " take it up "
don't deny It ..
deny me
follow him
..

what is the Cross    ?
a place    ?
an event   ?
or is It the heart of God from eternity to eternity infinite
where love is found
..

It is the heart of God
It resides within me
i must take It up
deny my Selfish Self
and follow a path laid out by Christ
   emblazoned on history's canvas one dreadful day in time
   witnessed in blood that ran from Jesus' body

the compassion that dripped from the rough-hewn wood
   ran blood-red in color
      the blood-red color of the heart of the God whose heart
         shattered at every biting crash of the hammer
         as They watched him be nailed to a tree - his pain
         Their pain - like some sign
            some announcement
            some declaration
            some violent angry statement of a lost confused humanity
               anxious for a scapegoat on which to hang their guilt
               their bloodlust dripping from mouth-watering anticipation
                  of crucifying themselves
                     vicarious suicide, this


         Grace and Truth is murdered
..

there is an interval i must inhabit
   to remind me of who i am
      where i came from
      where i'm heading ..
if i don't remember i'll forget

it is what defines me

i don't live here
i'm from here

Good Friday to you

this day ..

loud shrill repeated over and over and ..

in this most pleasant sitting

a touching wind
a dancing shadow of light
an underrated presenting of tender colors
   offering the seeer such pleasure
a broad cover of new verdance in every shade
   shading

who taught the Mocker to sing the songs of a thousand
   and no song to claim as its own

where are the new silver gray kittens hidden


the dogwoods blush white and paled red

the clouds left for new playgrounds
..


all the while
   stretching from the Netherworld
a vicious evil
   named
   but unpronounced
strikes
   at life
      lungs g-r-asp for air
      hearts constrict in fear
         even the pompous raising their glasses to the rollicking loud
            admit their frightened soul

what to do

where to run

how to kill it 'fore it kills me
..


strange (?) how life drops to the lowest common denominator
   so readily
once the fluff is blown away
and we are forced       have to    admit
   that my privilege is useless

the Red Devil craves the taste of my blood as much as the other
..


and the blossoms bloom
as the hatchlings open their eyes
   to life
      in all its delight
serenaded by the glorious calls of a thousand welcomers
   to life
..


so we refuse to pronounce the name of This Death

let it die in ignominy
   in anonymy

while the wildflowers stretch their resplendent petals to the light
and mother cat preens
 
      smiling all the while

a kingdom city ..

a city whose walls are falling in
whose bulwarks serve no purpose
   any longer

a deserted home of carrion birds

but there are to be found there   
   evidences of your images
tucked away in holes in deserted rooms
propped up against ruined walls
dusted
weathered
worn
discolored

the habitat of moss
naked to the sky
the bright blue sky where the hawk lives   
   borne aloft by the winds of promise
   the beauty of lofty flight in its wings
crying for companionship   
   for fellowship
      an echoed word
   a gentle breeze
   a place to land

someone saw the landscape 
   and the towering smokestacks and the broken walls
   and the gliding hawk and frightening vulture
   the worn staircase
   the chimney cluttered with coaldust a century-old   
   the blued glass above the empty window ..

and in their eye glimmered a promise of space renewed
home of the weary
with lights on
green vegetables
and artists-wrought wood and canvas and clay
the smell of freshly baked bread
the sidewalk coloured with this morning's cut flowers
the sound of children frolicking on the grass
the melody of music wafting its way in and out among the vendored wares
   flavoured with the taste of fresh-brewed java

a promise of New Life

the laughter of weightlessness
the banter of camaraderie
hopscotch into the blue sky


and the vision ran like a deep blue river flowing 
   through the grasses and the trees 
   and the walls
and the animals drink from it's banks
and all the people lapped it's waters and found within them wells   
   springing up into life..
New Life

and life gave birth to life

and the Life smiled
   that Life that was the Light of all peoples everywhere      
      for all time

Thy kingdom come .. .