Good Friday - As It Looks

by

Joris John Heise

Each day dies, and with it sleeps mankind,
The ease or cataclysm making an end
Familiar, inconsequential, routine as breath.

One man dies, and differences do occur--
The not-just-grief of goneness means more
Because that life meant more than most.

We seize the mystery of my death
In seeing another go to the dark
And wonder why not I, why not?

Because there is an end of "I"--
Some time down the execution of the minute
When my life becomes my deadness.

Jesus ended. That He did. Gone.
No matter how much faith engendered,
Hoped, charished, dreamed, believed,

That Friday froze His lifetime to a stillness
Broken and beaten, rejected and ruined.
Only quiet stayed beside His body.

To visit all of Joris John Heise's poems, click HERE

...the best independent ISP in the Twin Cities

To write us about this page,
contact willy@dreamagic.com (Willy Chaplin)