Bill Grace

Pilate's Kingdom - 3 - Poem by Bill Grace

When I see the human pain
That is hidden in the lives of those I would love
I ask the fearful question
And discover two men face to face
One asking - 'What is truth? ' -
too busy for reply,
The other pointing to it plainly.

Pilate's sin was in his hurry,
Asking, but not waiting, not willing to hear.
His sin is ours.
It was his speed that killed our Lord.
Functionaries are easily found to drive hate's nails.
This time will never bind.

So, again we come to the cycle's end.
Challenged to start a beginning of
Humility resting in His Father.

Our pride will be the first casualty
And our lives like His may lead to a cross,
And probably will if we take this whole thing seriously -
He doesn't promise us a good time. He never did.

I begin to understand
Why those well intentioned nuns
Could only give my youthful mind
A fraction of this thing called - Truth.

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Read poems about / on: truth, hate, pride, father, pain, time

Poem Submitted: Wednesday, May 25, 2005

Poem Edited: Monday, July 25, 2005

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