From the garden.
One more day…
One more day…
The bread is still warm.
Calmly I dismissed him who heralds my harm.
They who this table charm
forget the scent of the embalmers perfume.
The echo of his fading footsteps resume
whenever there is a reprieve from the needless arguments:
and they praise unaware of the impending lament.
Oh Father,
Will you ascend the hill with me
And wait as I pray
Or will you sleep in my darkest hour
Saving souring flesh?
When the fangs pierce my heel,
And the serpent seeks to steal each exhale,
And hands impaled inhale impending darkness;
When the intended groom hangs naked
And the betrothed assails;
Will your gaze stay or fray?
Half buried I am by a friend’s betray.
Halfway ingested the cursed cup remains
Corrosive contents to stain my flesh.
I struggle to contain my distress
Too faithful to repent, let it all be spent
In a night…
And one more day.
One more day…
For this the dungeon holds,
And for now the light still flickers.
Once these fingers did stars fling
And for them the rocks will sing
But tomorrow’s day and the life before
For a sting and a world restored.
How quickly from light to darkness,
Palm leaves to stones,
Reckless praise to insults,
Crowns to thorns,
Questions to stark impulses,
And chants?
The chants…
Foretold and known yet haunting;
Embodied now all’s daunting;
Anointed by their relentless refrain
For a long night in chains and then
one more day.
One more day…
The stones should have cried out
But they instead spewed the nails that await.
I and the tall tree are fated to die.
Naked for fallen leaves
and cursed for sour fruit.
The axe in myrrh was at out roots.
A lash for each wilderness hour
A rush to reach for what wilderness flowered.
To scour tenderness thrice tempted.
from this path I’m not exempt.
The Wine awaits
The bread must break
and when the nights partaken
it’ll be one more day.
© Denis Adide 2018
It's Complicated 