Less Than a Day Away

Less Than a Day Away

(“And they brought Jesus to a place called Golgotha (which means “Place of the Skull).“ Mark 15:22)

It was a deadhead where they brought Him,
a vacated cranium. It was empty-minded
thoughts, flotation devices that hung above
the well deep where wonder, despair, and
hope for better meet.

It was living and breathing, walking dead,
who made Life walk among the massive education
looming, ballooning their advertisements no heavier
than helium.

It was Language itself who never said a word
in the face of invented opinions meeting
capitalized religion together with abbreviated reason.

We cannot say we do not care
what happened upon that hill;
we may hate it, disbelieve it, embrace it,
mould reliefs, or ignore it, but fairly often
our opinion is stronger than we let on.

There was hope upon the ground that the senseless execution
would dull like morphine their mind’s constant goading
about the way Words and Reason made sense more
transcendental than dirt-bound philosophers or
ink-penned scribes.

The ruined One upon the tree refused every offer,
every drug-induced remedy. (We do not medicate to
expand the mind, but do quiet its constant truth attraction.)

One truth was placed on hold on the empty-headed hill,
Truth unfashioned by arithmetic or piety. There is nothing
to fear here, near Golgotha’s hill, save our own skull with
thought turned off
prematurely.

Heaven sent Truth to speak, to heal, to love, to reveal
the greater plan than man could conclude,
and we abused, excused and sentenced Him for
making Heaven sound far too near.

Even one thief that cruel Friday heard that
Paradise lay less than a day away.