Lay your child down Mary,
bound by cloth and linen strips
and laid in a box.
A tiny bundle of flesh and bones
descended in blood and filth
and screaming for all the world to hear
the sounds of new birth and new life.
The knife, lifted to cut,
to separate you from him;
He breathes for himself.
Take your child down Mary,
and bind him in cloth and linen
to lie in a tomb.
A corpse of flesh and bones
descending in blood and filth,
no longer screaming for all the world to hear
the sounds of death and propitiation.
The knife, lifted to show,
the separation of water and blood.
We grieve. For ourselves?
Good Friday 2013
Tremendous, Peter. Well done.