As we enjoy having Easter time as a break from work; spending time with family or just using the time to catch up on those jobs we always put off, how many of us actually think about  the true meaning of Easter?  I was thinking about the events of Good Friday this morning and decided to write a poem.  I do hope it doesn’t offend anybody.

Good Friday, imagine the pain 

Jesus, perfect son of God

Healed, and ceased all harm

Good and gentle, true and just

One word and storms were calm

 

Betrayed and denied by those he loved

Mocked and scorned  and slain

Hatred surrounding his purest love

Imagine the shame, imagine the pain

 

Laden with cross, he proceeded

Barefoot and beaten again

Heavy and weary yet strong

Imagine the shame, imagine the pain

 

Ridiculed, exhausted, humiliated

A crown of thorns piercing his mane

Jagged and stabbing and sharp

Imagine the shame, imagine the pain

 

Put up on the cross for all to view

Nails cruelly hammered through veins

His hands and feet stabbed, excruciating

Imagine the shame, imagine the pain

 

Dehydrated, heavy and tortured

His holy body under immeasurable strain

Taunted, insulted and suffering

Imagine the shame, imagine the pain

 

His  final breath was taken

Powerful, beautiful, brave

The ultimate sacrifice for mankind

Crucified so we shall be saved

Fiona Adams

Please do not reproduce without permission.