April 17: Poem 17

I woke to snow on Easter Day
    And that somehow seemed wrong.
This day was deigned for daffodils
    And silver sun and song.

And I remembered of the time
    Now twenty years long gone
When I once trod as Jesus trod
    I hope you’ll tread along.

‘Twas under glare of ERS
    With pancake makeup on
That I donned Nikes and tie dye
    To perform for the throng.

Much Matthew I did memorize
    To give my Lord His tongue.
Beatitudes I struggled with
    And often got them wrong.

I asked for Grace and for Mercy,
    For Him to keep me strong,
For His voice was to be my voice
    His song to be my song.

I felt the fear of failing Him
    Sharing His story wrong
So I asked God to let me bear
    Some suffering along.

Thus when amid the passion play
    I felt moments prolong
And prayed in my Gethsemene
    Felt angels ring the gong

The judgement that I knew was mine
    How right was made from wrong
The burden that my Savior took
    I took some sliver on

The tears I shed were not some art
    A mask that I put on
‘Twas fragments of what Jesus felt
    A gift that’s made me strong.

I bear it still inside my soul
    A place with walls quite strong
And there I sit in reverence
    And know that I’m God’s son.

Notes

This was both the most difficult and easiest poem to write of the series so far. A production of Godspell 20 years ago is my own genuine 'come to Jesus' moment. I have had pieces of this in my head for days, but woke up with it almost finished in my subconscious - and about 75% of it was in the first draft that I pounded out in fifteen minutes this morning. I asked God to help me write this in the same way I asked Him for help two decades ago, and He answered both times. 

I hope you have (or have had) a blessed Easter.