I am posting this poem because Good Friday approaches. I tried to capture an image of Jesus, and what he might have been thinking and feeling in those final moments in Gethsemane before he was arrested. Presumptuous, perhaps, but I still tried.

-Nicole

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“Gethsemane”

I wrestle the cross out of my heart
So I can carry it on my back
For you. For all of you.
This painful extrication caused the blood
To flow from my forehead and pool
On the ground before me.
For a brief moment, I wish for
Angels, for uninhibited beauty –
But the cup sits ever before me,
Demanding that I put my lips
To it and drink deeply – the thorns,
The curses, the bitterness, and
Carry them in my belly with a
Cross tied to my back.
Peter, draw not your sword. Don’t try
To stop this all from happening.
For our greatest victory is yet to come,
A victory of ages that will surely be won
Once I wrestle this cross out of my heart
And carry it on my back.

Written 7/14/2007
© 2007 Nicole Nicholson. All Rights Reserved.

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