And So The Women Wept - Poem by Bill Mitton
In the noise and dust of that dark day
When pain and anger mingled.
Where Love was driven on with whips and jeers
shouldering the oppressive burden of a sinful world.
A world blood hazed and scorched with hatred
with the dust of its decaying filling the eyes and mouth.
Hope held hostage and life bleached of any meaning
The women wept, for they saw love bleeding.
Ringed by indifference, goaded by ignorance
Love staggered, faltered, slipped and fell,
And goodness bore the kicks, blows and bites
of poverty, famine, hunger and despair.
Pity fled, compassion turned its face away
chaffed shoulders bled, thorns pierced as spikes.
The burden grew heavier with every faltered step
Once more the women wept, for they knew love’s agony.
The sound of hammer on nail, a death knell ringing
and Love was iron spiked to the wood of sacrifice.
Upon a hill named for skulls, they raised love up
to be ridiculed below a label of false titles.
In that moment love took the evil of this world
and gathering it all into an anguished heart.
To place it imploring at the feet of eternal light
and the tears of the women became a prayer
Side pierced on that hill who*s name was skulls
Love died, and the world knew darkness complete.
she who had born love in her womb, felt the sword
and she who had once denied love, now knew her lie.
So they wept, together, for the lose of that light,
and love was entombed in haste amongst dark rock
Thus a world hung in the canyon between darkness and light.
Huddled, cold and frightened the women wept in fear.
From the radiant glory, of a third dawn,
fulfilling the prophecy and promise of his word
in glory, Love arose, Hope was given wings and flew
to illuminate all the corners of a dark world.
The light of eternity smiled upon Love’s ransom
and in his gift this world would be redeemed.
Death is banished for all who’s lives hold love
this the women saw and they wept with joy.
Yet still, down the ages the women’s tears have fallen
at births, and deaths, in sacrifice for life’s grief and joy.
Yet in these tears, Love’s message is ever present.
They wept for the lives they’ve born into an evil world,
from crib to cross, in gentleness and compassion,
they watch each painful step up to the hill of skulls
anguishing at the ignorance in every hammered nail
the women wept and will ever weep, for they weep Love’s tears.
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