A simple poem on the thoughts of Peter throughout the Triduum. Enjoy!
(Oh, and please bear in mind that I am no expert on Bible history, or theology. I will not even claim any inadvertent errors on the grounds of poetic license. I will have to claim them on the grounds of ignorance instead.)
Maundy Thursday-Good Friday-Holy Saturday-Easter Sunday
I was afraid.
There was nothing on that day but fear.
No hope—all sorrow, except by God’s aid,
And how could God’s aid extend to here?
I was so afraid that I denied Him—
Him, who I said I would never deny.
The cock crowed, and I realized what I was doing.
I was safe; they sent Him to be crucified.
I was not at the Cross’s foot; I was too frightened.
The world for me had fallen apart.
Thunder and earthquakes, the Temple veil torn—
All I could think of was my despairing heart.
For three days we hid, the others and I.
John alone had stayed by His side.
Isn’t that strange, now—John was the youngest,
Yet he stayed in the open, too loving to hide.
Then came the news, the glorious news,
I could have gone out of my mind for joy.
There is a kind of madness that makes one sane,
Mature and yet childlike—a brand new boy.
He rose, and forty days later, He left us,
And yet, at once, He never left.
For though we didn’t have our Master,
We never truly were bereft—
Years have passed, now, since that day.
His care passed to me, I know.
My feet will have to follow,
The way His had to go;
And I always must remember
Though we seem apart,
When those who’ve passed seem far away,
They’re safest, near His heart.