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No Calvary To The Rescue Here.

Updated on March 25, 2010


No Calvary To The Rescue Here.


Imagine the

incredible agony,
of knowing one

of your closest
compatriots had

betrayed you
and another

denied knowing you,
as you knelt

in despair,
in the sweet scents of
flowering fruit trees

with only hours left to

breathe their fragrances
knees pressed

on hard rock,
begging only

 to be free
of such

a burden,
while the clatter of swords
and angry men

drew near,
as your palms

ached at
what was to come,
while lovely palms

above swayed
in the gentle breeze,
and your feet felt the
urgent call to

flee the spikes
that soon would

lock them tight
in sprays of

purest red,
upon a

dogwood cross,
much like

the one whose
blossoming limbs

above you,
but all

of mankind
needed you

 to stay,

as the rose

of sharon 
and simply pray...
in that

of Gethsemane.

Natures finest

blossom ever
was plucked from

there that day,
and splayed

for all to view
as a wandering Jew,
a bit of

loco weed,
who thought

he was God,
and then they

buried his husk
after he shriveled

and died,
in a dark cavern,

and left,
thinking all

was well,
but he re-bloomed
and rose

 to heights,
no Lily of

the valley
could ever

hope to reach.


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    • Micky Dee profile image

      Micky Dee 7 years ago

      OOOh- that's nice and you know it! Great job- but it's par for you! Thanks MFB!