The piece is about 20yrs old, although not in this exact form -- it was preached as a sermon, at that time





We drove nails thru his hand and feet.

Iron nails driven thru flesh and into the rough wood.

The son of god spread eagled on the cross, the tree of defeat.


We raised the cross from the ground.

The son of mary hung between earth and heaven.

The son of man caught between the envy and hate of the one

And the divine stillness of the other.


The prince of peace hung upon that cross -- hung there in pain

Such pain that thee healthy human body refuses to imagine_

And thirst -- thirst that all the waters of earth could not slake--

And despair, such black despair, when it seemed that even god had

Turned his back, shut his ears...


We left the son of god and the son of man hang on that cross

Until with a loud voice he cried out “it is finished”

And died.


Not content even with the death of the cross, we thrust through

The son of mary with a roman spear, an iron point, a hands span

Broad at the helve and fourteen inches long.. an upward thrust

Thru stomach, heart and lung, until blood and water ran out

And we were satisfied.


Two men, at risk to themselves, came begging the body.
They took him down, from the cross
wrapped him for burial, and laid him in a rock tomb.. .
safe from the hate and the envy and the stillness.

“And that”, we said, “Is the last we shall see of Him...”