HOW QUIET AND STILL

How quite and still all the world seems
Compared to Good Friday of years ago,
A day to have fun, or lie late in dreams
Some not thinking of His sorrow and woe.

Can you hear the angry crowds yell, ‘Crucify?’
The tramping of the solders ironed feet,
Can you hear nail on wood? Loved ones near by.
Can you see the Saviour a painful death meet?

Where are the joyful souls that were healed?
Are they turncoats? Or hide, with fear filled?
As death comes, Heaven’s arches pealed
A knell of doom in anger, their God they killed.

Mountains were rent, buildings destroyed,
The wind cried and screamed in pain,
The whole world seemed like a void.
And the sun covered its face in shame.

Yet some laugh and play on this sacred day,
No remembrance shown as in days of old,
Some go to church their homage to pay
Some think it a sad story just to be told.

But he suffered and died for all mankind,
Overcame death and sin, won a great victory.
But very few care, for many you’ll find
Not caring, but use His name irreverently.

He lives, who died on the cross so cruelly,
He lives and loves all in this world you see,
For He is the son of God, He died for me.
So for a time I’ll think of Him on Calvary

M Ann Margetson © April 21, 2000
POEMS 2000/Goodfriday

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