A Poem for Good Friday

From One who Once was Dead
A poem for Good Friday

Lazarus held his sisters close,
both weeping into his woven cloak
standing at a distance
from His cross.
A simple Sabbath day walk.

Lazarus knew the power
of this Man’s voice.
Wondered at this Man’s choice
to hang there wounded, bleeding,

Jesus wept for him as friend.
Lazarus’ eyes welled for Him.
The darkened day, the wounded
souls, wailing at the feet.
He bowed his head into his
sister’s tangled hair.

Lord, O Lord,
what are you doing there?

c.Darlene Moore Berg


1 Comment

Filed under Easter, Religious

One response to “A Poem for Good Friday

  1. Good to meet you already 🙂

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