Lenten Reflection - part i

i was not weeping at the cross,

unlike the Mother of our Lord and

the women of Jerusalem.

They believed in Someone,

believed that Something would come to pass.

And i, pushing past the people,

grabbed the body, slippery in blood

and spittle from the scornful

unbelievers gathered round,

gnarled with a thousand whip lashes,

grabbed it,

screamed

"Where were You, God,

Where were You when it mattered most?"

and ended with a cry

primitive, primeval, an ache beyond words,

so did the Christ cry out with me.