Poetry for Holy Week #6: Joseph of Arimathea

Tags

catholic culture, easter triduum, holy saturday, lent, poetry, roman catholic, st. joseph of arimathea

Well, here it is, the last poem of the “Poetry for Holy Week” series.

Enjoy!

Joseph of Arimathea
Holy Saturday
They gave Thee to Thy Mother’s arms
And then they laid Thee in a tomb;
Still in Thy face was beauty,
To be sealed away in that deathly room.
Huddled in a locked, closed room,
The Saturday vigil long to keep
Not for sorrow, but for fear
With Thy friends I wee;

Yet at the third day’s dawning,
Thou would arise again,
To go before to Galilee
And meet with human kin!
No message of sorrow there will be
Without the light of joy
Now Death itself lies dying,
And Fear is but a ploy;

Not face to Face, yet heart to Heart,
My heart will rest with Thee,
And when my words all are useless,
Then come, humility.
Not to death will my path lead,
But through it, and then on;
Ever since You opened the gates
I will trust Thee till all is over and done!

And let me keep before me
Thy Passion’s bitter pain
All my life send on me
Thy lifeblood’s healing rain!
Let me bear my little cross
In unison with Thine,
And let me live with Thee forever,
As a saintly sign.
Amen.

Poetry for Holy Week #4: The Apostles’ Tale

Tags

catholic culture, easter triduum, lent, mary magdalene, maundy thursday, poetry, roman catholic, st. john the evangelist, st. joseph of arimathea, st. peter, the apostles, the blessed virgin mother

This one is multiple points of view… I hope it’s not too confusing to anybody!

Enjoy!

The Apostles’ Tale
Holy Week
Peter:
Quo vadis, Domine?
See, I follow on the way,
This is where the world’s fear comes due:
“See, I am making all things new!”

---

Mary Magdalene:
Strange words to hear
Condemned lips to my condemned ear
Now, the day grows dark with fear
Small hope breeding still less cheer.

---

Mary, Mother of Christ:
Does the world not understand
Just Who it was I led by the hand,
The man they put to death today?
Their salvation slain, yet still, He saves.

I always knew it would come to this,
But the burden is no less hard to bear.
I’ll never understand why some men
Judge when they weren’t even there.

---

John:
Is there no hope for this world now?
The life grows dim upon His brow,
“Son, your mother—woman, your son.”
His work I still don’t understand—yet still it has begun.

---

Joseph of Arimathea:
The Son of God lies in my tomb,
It is hard to believe,
Never was the world so cold,
And harder still to grieve.

---

Mary, Mother of Christ:
Yet still my Son is conqueror,
Of men, and death itself lies slain!
Victorious He will rise on the third day,
And then I shall not mind my pain.

Author’s note: Yes, Mary, the mother of Christ got more lines than anyone else. She thinks much, much more than she speaks; these are her thoughts. No, I am not going to change it. This is my way of blowing sexism out of the water. The girls the same number of stanzas as the boys. 😛 Whoo!