death shroud.iii

i think of mary sitting up, grieving the cruel death of her beloved Friend. missing Him. remembering His eyes (can you imagine what it would be like to look into the eyes of the Saviour? unfathomable mercy no doubt).

i cannot sleep, and am reminded of the many late nights after i lost my grams, nights when there was no comfort to be found. no solace in the silence. only emptiness. only grief. despair.

my dear friend said, suz, they hadn't lost their hope. but i contend they had. they did not know, as we do now, He will rise again (although they were told, they just couldn't understand. are we so different?). but we have the benefit of hindsight. we have the whole thing laid out for us (which is perhaps why we struggle to believe with the simple faith of those who knew what His eyes looked like). we don't have a firsthand knowledge because we don't need it. but i contend, we do. need it, that is, and firsthand knowledge is still available too. if you just look.

i cannot
sleep tonight
Your cries
echo
in my mind.

exposed
You hung
for all
to see.

my friend,
my Lord
i see You.

Your eyes
have not changed
Your love
undiminished

though You die
the cruelest
death.

and i
miss You.

my love
my Lord

i miss
You.