We Have Upstaged You

 

We Have Upstaged You

(“The captain of the soldiers was looking at Jesus when He cried out. He saw Him die and said, ‘For sure, this Man was the Son of God.’” Mark 15:39)

Was your voice like the rasp of a
fountain pen on parchment after you cried,
“Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?”
Did they think you were the king of thieves
hanged between robbers on your cruel throne?
Perfection, you were abused;
Compassion, you were accused;
We only saw our own reflection
in the eyes of the one who started world
from thought to mist,
from rain to mud,
from mud to dust and from
dust to breath again.

Did the spittle from the deeply pious
mix with the blood that ran down your brow?
Did the taunts and derision spin in your spirit
while the spikes tore at your flesh?
Did the crowds laugh? Did their tongues wag
and their heads vibrate like bobble-head dolls
and insatiate know-it-alls?

Did your heart break when they offered the
sour alcohol
on a dirty rag to see if Elijah would return
to lift you off the wood where the blood had dried
against your back? Did they ever realize
they got it wrong?

Warriors die as heroes, martyrs as offshore legends,
POWS in redrock dungeons. You died like

Humans die
and yet so divine.

We have upstaged you with our mighty pageants,
powerful senates and threats of hell. We might as
well

Follow Caesar,

If not for the one standing there who saw you
as you are.

You died so human and yet so divine;
the first word heard after you loudly cried
and slumped in a final exhale of breath
was spoken by a pagan soldier when

He saw how you died.

“Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?”