One Friday
Momentous hour!
Sun darkened, rocks split apart,
the Earth, as if in wrath, quaked,
convulsed, stones-- fire spat.
The Prince of peace was slain,
for this purpose had he come,
born to die-- prophecy's cry.
Soldiers mocked, Jews dismayed,
disciples fled, women wept.
Silent before Roman and Jew,
nailed to the cross, he stayed,
torn flesh, spilled blood
-- on a cursed tree--
drank he all, the bitter cup.
Mercy, forgiveness, grace,
flowed through his flesh and blood,
Pilate's question, "What is truth?"
suspended in space.
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"One Friday" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 13 Jun 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/96850/one-friday>.
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