something in your exit line
disturbed
history
led us to this

you spoke
and for a moment
soldiers stopped casting lots
the rain-washed mob forgot its call for blood

pilate regretted
and for a moment
high priests wondered

your prayer for forgiveness
painted us in chiaroscuro
revealed blackness of space and depth
we hadn’t known we possessed

showed us how far we had wandered
filled us with anger for what we had lost
a need to punish

demanded an inquisition
pogroms crusades
a need for our own armageddon

it was that final call for compassion
that drove us mad
made us resent the message
the unconditional love

not arguments over
a stone rolled away
a body missing

dorothy sjoholm

To read other poems by Dorothy, please click on the links below:

Consumer

Country Song

Games