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Poetry

Gutting Golgotha

By Jean Lear

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Gutting Golgotha

 

"My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?"
This is not a question hanging in the air
but an agonizing scream as the sovereign mighty God
tips the bitter, brimming cup of His wrath
completely over His suspended Son.

 

The ground erupts with exploding rocks.
The
Temple veil is ripped top to bottom.
Graves fly open
as a palatable darkness shrouds the earth.
Heaven expectantly watches.
Hell drops by for a visit.

 

"It is finished."
This is not a three-word sentence
mumbled by a dying man
fastened to a torture stake
but a ringing declaration of eternal truth
shouted by the triumphant Son.

 

The earth lies quietly waiting.
The veil exposes its' wound.
Heaven explodes with joy.
Hell slinks away defeated.
Golgotha is gutted.

 

And Easter morn is yet to come.

 

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Jane Lear is a member of Northeast Presbyterian Church in Columbia, S.C.

 

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