Good Friday’s gone… What was good about it? The triumph of cynical pragmatism Oiled by silver in the hands of the right man? A curious combination of tears, jeers and cheers As political enemies and religious leaders Thought they had got everything sorted. But that was then This is now. Here, in this God forsaken place… Where we go backwards instead of forwards Everything has turned to ash. Or maybe We’re in the unholy darkness of holy Saturday. No one there to offer leadership Everyone has run for cover While young people bear stigmata Bodies broken, blood shed. Where is the hope? We believe in the resurrection… But perhaps even hope needs to die Before it can really take place. Selah
Dialogues, monologues, sketches, poems, rants, theological and liturgical bits and bobs and miscellaneous other verbal doodles...