Haiku of the end.
They arrest Jesus
decide upon the
verdict,
begin the trial.
Taken to Pilate,
He is accused of
treason;
by his own people.
A Galilean,
you say! He’s not
my problem;
take him to Herod!
Jesus the healer!
says Herod, all
excited.
Show for me a sign!
He keeps them
guessing,
refusing to play
their game,
keeping his mouth
shut.
Pilate resists them,
He has done no
wrong. Flog him,
then we’ll let him
go.
The crowd shout him
down.
Pilate, lacking
conviction,
lets Barabbas go.
Beaten and broken
Jesus staggers
‘neath his cross.
The Cyrene bears it.
The inscription
reads
This is the king
of the Jews.
A king for us all.
They are mocking
him:
If you are king,
save yourself!
The soldiers join
in.
Two others also,
criminals, guilty as
charged,
are hanged there
with him.
The one also mocks.
The other entreats:
Jesus,
do not forget me.
At three he cries
out,
Father. I am in your
hands!
and draws his last
breath.
The crowd return
home,
beating their
breasts, questioning,
What is it we’ve
done?
©
Ken Rookes 2019
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