Good Friday

Another Friday, overcast and grey.
I sit alone to study but reflect
On that dark Friday years ago, the day
The light went out, when we failed to detect
The purpose through the pain that grew so great
All comforts were eclipsed, and in the ache
Of ignorance and fear, the hour grew late
Then passed for hope of rescue. Then the break
Of heart when his heart stopped and he grew still
And death remained what it had always been.
Perhaps one day the Lord would still fulfill
His word, but not this day. This day, our sin
And shame were at their height, and we below
The storm clouds wondered, “Where else shall we go?”

Photo by Dylan McLeod on Unsplash


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