Poem: “Twelfth Station”

by Matthew B. Rose on Mar 24, 2013 in Poetry

Twelfth Station
Good Friday

Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.
I’m not saying they aren’t culpable,
But they don’t know better.
They choose this evil, but they don’t know why.
Working through them? Lord, I understand.
So forgive them their part, Lord, if they are willing.
Not my will, though, but Thine.

This day you will be with me in Paradise.
I know you, brother, I know you are sorry.
I’ve seen your face before, my friend,
And I know you know who I Am.
Thank you for the sympathies,
I’m indebted to you.
For you, I give a gift of gifts,
Salvation for your sorrow.
Come, baptized in blood,
Into your reward.
Woman, behold your son; Man, behold your mother.

Mother.
John.
I need you both to be strong.
I know you understand, both of you.
You are my family, the ones who stayed.
So Mother, I give you my friend.
Friend, you are my new brother.
Yet not just you, you know that by now,
But all, from now to the end,
All who bow and pray and praise the glory
Of this sacrifice.
Mother, you are their mother.
John, you are their brother.
Be with each other as mother and brother,
Parent and Son.

I thirst.
I can’t feel my throat. It burns.
It is yours, O Lord.
I need to finish this. Lord, help me.
So thirsty. So dry.

My God, My God, Why have you forsaken me?
I am this Psalm, and I start it now.
I finish it Lord, to glorify your name.
Help me,
Keep me,
Take me.
I have been the worm.
I have had my hands and feet pierced.
I can count all my bones.
They circle under me, like a pack of dogs.
How accurately is the prediction!
How thorough the fulfillment.
To the Greater Glory of God.

It is Finished.
I have fought the good fight,
I have done Your will.
The Passover is complete,
I have drunken the last cup.
This is my Last Will and Testament.
This is it. This is the Point of No Return.
I can do no more.

Into Your hands I command my Spirit
You have redeemed me, O Faithful God.

Matthew B. Rose