On this Good Friday, I offer the following blank verse in remembrance of Our Lord’s Passion:
The Crown of Thorns
By Lynn Miyake, OCDS
The two were slaves who happened to be near.
The soldiers made them weave the crown of thorns,
And as they twisted prickling vines, the thorns
Tore open fingers, palms, and fumbling thumbs.
The soldiers nodded, pointed then at Him.
The slaves, they placed the crown upon His head,
And vicious thorns, they pierced His sacred brow --
The Blood ran down upon their bleeding hands.
The Precious Blood, it mingled with the blood
Of slaves. Then Jesus caught their gaze and looked
At them with love, WITH LOVE, as if to say,
We now, at last, are altogether one.
Distressing times in our nation and in the world. Now, in the dead of winter, the temperature drops below freezing every night. Yet, the violets are thinking about spring. The original plants, given to me by a friend, have long since died. They didn’t like the location where I planted them. However, they lived long enough to seed the surrounding area, and ever since, their offspring have delighted me year after year. Before the end of the month, they will be covered in blossoms.
I still believe in faith.
I still believe in hope.
I still believe in love.
This week I am up in the mountains. At home, my husband is faithfully watering my plants. This morning when I called, he had just finished watering the courtyard. He had lingered for a moment, and he remarked how nice everything looked.