First Station of the Cross: Jesus Is Condemned to Death

(Pilate to himself)

A raging mob?  I'd rather face the beasts —
At least a lion killer has a sword;
But this is rabble maddened by the priests,
Held at bay by nothing but my word

Stink of breath, of rage, of something worse,
A shifting of the atmosphere, a storm
Of jealousy, a diabolic curse:
Malevolence, the stinging of the swarm

And I'm the center of it, prefect, judge
And here's a perfect innocence I see —
One of us is sitting in a cage,
But who's the prisoner, this man or me?

Now a tide of hatred like a wave —
Kill the Christ, they shout, Barabbas save

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  • Guest

    God loves you .

    THAT’S IT – I just had to order both his poetry books – he can give any stanza of verse – as few lines as he uses – a refreshing power of spirit. My own prose(-aic) lines suffer by comparison.

    God be praised for the likes . . .

    Remember, I love you, too

    Through Christ, with Christ, in Christ,

    Pristinus Sapienter

    (wljewell or …