The tree took seven-score years to grow
from seven seeds only one, did owe
its debt of fertility to earth, air, water, fire.
The nourishing forces of existence & demise.
From Cypress grove was chosen, the strongest, straightest, tree
Seven days to mill by hand. The sap was dark & ran like blood
As true could be carved straight & nailed with iron
then dragged seven weary days on bleeding feet, by weak Christ
the martyr. Weighted deep in stony Calvary, bleached bones
marked the site & what they called solemnity
was pain carved on his face & brow. One spear wound
was many more than that, slashing, gaping, weeping scars
in holy chastity: eunuch virginity violated. Raped
with created Roman steel, straight from the Gods forgery
of fire & brimstone. Proudly wielded by devotion, conviction
religious loyalty the book was based upon. Deep within, embedded
Sin hanging broken, blood & the vultures burrowed
as did the white dove in deep, up to its chaste neck
Dipping in & out quenching thirst & quest
florid red, unashamedly proud, a greater feast than olive twig
Black flies buzzed in torrid heat, boiling in the drying gore
laying legion deep within, flayed flesh coagulating
peeling with the sun’s burning adoration. Rocks pelted
smashed & caved God’s son in joyful lust emotion.
Limp weight in naked feebleness, dripped loathsome sacrifice,
pathetic in the poignancy. Soon obscured by night.
Souvenirs of blistered raw toes. Within reach, were cut,
before death off martyred lamb. Impotent, staining air
with laboured fetid dying breath, you are forgiven.
You are forgiven for all your sins, repent.
The meaning lost its way with the guide - his father
lent, now desecrated & so bent. He didn't rise again.
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