God Forsaken

Tree Trunk

 

 

© Jeanne E Webster. All rights reserved
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Have you ever had “wondering” days
When you sat and reflected upon things?
Unique perceptions linger and laze,
And before you know it, take wings.
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I was wondering about Mary today,
The mother of Jesus, our Lord,
How she tarried with intent to stay,
Heart and spirit of woeful accord,
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On that day when they took her son,
Laid him down and nailed him hard
To a rough-hewn tree. It was done;
Thirty pieces of silver the reward.
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She waited atop that forsaken hill
Weeping, wanting to hold her boy.
She knew that his body they did kill
But his spirit they could not destroy.
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His ravaged remains lifted off the tree;
Mary’s tears mingled with his blood.
Softly she cradled him ever so lovingly
As the soil turned into a rich red mud.
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His corpse was taken to a sepulcher near
And wrapped with ointments and spices.
Mary trudged home spewing Sabbath tears,
Her heart crushed into a thousand slices.
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I wondered today if underneath all the dirt,
That hill still preserves hallowed mud,
Evidence of Mary’s godforsaken hurt:
Her tears mingled with Jesus’ blood.

 

2 comments on “God Forsaken

  1. Oh yes, such turmoil within the blood & tear stained soil….

    Wing His Words,
    Pam

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