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Torn – a poem for Good Friday

Torn – a poem for Good Friday

Torn. A lonely garden draped in a starry night, a soul ripped apart. Yet not my will but yours His spirit shrieks his fear His body trembles overwhelmed with the weight Of us Torn. Rust-bound nails pierce uncreated flesh, Word of eternity in blood cascading. Arms spread wide in love-drenched agony. Torn. A mother’s heart shattered into a million pieces, she watches, afraid to turn away. Drowned in the anguish of uncomprehending grief. She recalls a night so long ago…

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