The Cry (Good Friday, 2006)
“and Jesus uttered a loud cry….”
In the quiet,
close
to the crowd
of ears made of dirt,
drawn of dull dusty ground,
shaped by tender hands,
deafened
by the dawning world’s ancient thunder;
opened to sound
by probing touch of healing fingers
pressing paralyzed, numb flesh.
Opened
to hear the sound of Your Voice.
You cry out
a word beyond all human speech.
And the clothing that concealed
us
in suffocation
is sundered by the vibration
of the last echo
of Your Voice—
suddenly silenced
under the hidden sun—
as Your Breath blows through
the living air.
