Good Friday in a Time of War. (Completed Poem).

Good Friday is not good,

It is hopelessness,

Desolation,

All the cities that have ever burned

Still burning,

Every child that was ever slaughtered

Still feeling the thrust of the knife,

The heat of the bullet,

The raw edge of the rope.

Good Friday is every crime ever committed,

Every murder,

Every rape, 

Every act of genocidal war;

And still the rockets pour down molten rain.

And still the victims crouch beneath the earth. -

All this expressed in savage hammer blows

That forced the nails through the opened hands

Of the healer,

The charismatic Lord of Life.

He forgave all those he healed with love

Because he knew their thoughts, their hopes, their fears.

He knew that they would turn their backs on him

When he was stretched wide screaming on the cross,

Crucified because he spoke the truth,

Because he cured the blind -

The halt - the dumb - the deaf - the epileptic, -

Because he woke the dead;

And still the victims crouch in catacombs and bunkers.

Good Friday is not good,

It is a blasphemy against all things,

Against the child nestling in the womb,

Against the beauty of the universe,

Against every tiny deed of love,

Against every mother`s smile and kiss.

Eli, Eli lama sabachthani?

And still the rockets pour down molten rain.

Trevor John Karsavin Potter.

15th. - 16th. April 2022.