broken {Good Friday}

The air is thick
with the smell of blood
and the buzzing of flies. Hysteric wails
mix with angry shouts of “you’re not our king!”
and “blasphemer!” and “save yourself!”
Curious passersby push through the crowds to
behold the spectacle.

But in this chaos and anger, she is calm,
silent,
standing dutifully by her Son
as she has all of His life.
Her eyes haven’t left Him since
He was nailed to the cross.
It hurts to look at Him,
but it hurts even more to look away,
at the hateful faces of the crowd.

Tears fall from her eyes as she remembers
the words spoken to her when He was
a baby: “And you yourself, a sword shall pierce.”

Her heart has broken for Him before,
but never like this.

Never into this many pieces.

good friday

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