I regret not knowing who to credit for this image.
INTERESTING

Had we been buddies for three years,
Would I have pretended not to know him?
Would I have been absent from his execution?
Would I have hid behind locked doors
Fearing for my life?
Would I have run
To the tomb early Sunday morning
To anoint his body
Now drenched in the stench of death?

Interesting questions.

How far am I willing to go right now
With those I claim to love?
Perhaps therein lies an answer.

Equally interesting:
Not everyone ran away.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

AN EASTER POEM: IT IS TIME

Image
We are born to love and be loved.  Our brain is literally wired for love.  But it doesn't take much for us to begin protecting ourselves from love.  It begins very early, sometimes from the beginning.    We are all imperfect parents, and sometimes we unwittingly abandon our children, sometimes with the good intentions of teaching them life's lessons, not knowing that the lesson we teach is to protect yourself from love.  As parents, in a moment of frustration, we have all said something like, "After all the terrible things you said to me, including that you hate me, and now, you want me to give you a hug?  Really?  Maybe tomorrow!"    I know, for myself, my almost 70 year journey continues.  I continue to learn how deeply I have buried my heart and my soul to protect them both from what seems to be the pains of love.  The reality is that love is not painful.  Love is wonder filled.  But by the time we get to a place in our life when we can experience mature love
Read more

MARIANNE BYER'S COLLATION

Image
I endured my first steps into the morning. The cold pavement greeted me. The Son soothed me. The road led to the first meal of my day. Christ in his entire filled my gnawing heart, Like gentle morning dew, He awakened me from my sleep. Returning home the Son blinded my eyes, Encouraging me to see the path In which he was leading me. Suddenly,  Sounds and smells of my childhood Engulfed me. Sparrows, Lilacs, Blue jays, And doves, Summoned me. I consumed the second meal of my day. And the longings, Mother Father Brother Sister They arose Serving me bittersweet treats, I struggled through the third meal of my day. And then the Son, Sparrows, Lilacs, Blue jays, Doves, Mother, Father, Brother, Sister, Ushered me up the walk. The welcoming smell of sausage Brought a smile to my face. I was home. My husband
Read more

THANK YOU MAYA ANGELOU

Image
Photography from   http://www.womenscouncil.org/cd_web/Angelou.html   Intense, Rhythmic,  Ah, elegant, Fully resonant her voice. Her creations Perhaps not for the eyes But for the ears only. From deep within the caverns of her soul, Her carefully-chosen words Put bow to those Godly strings Harmonically vibrating like a cello.  Sounds, yes music, we shall miss, Yet etched forever  Deep within our own poetic souls.
Read more