Epitaphio

Hello world!.

April 17, 1971 – Epitaphio – Cambridge, Massachusetts

Deep blue robes with dark folds,

Dark black hair – curling round his neck.

Penetrating blue eyes – absorbing all,

Alone – the only person in focus

As all the masses fade out in a blur.

The heavy Christ-tomb on his broad back,

His hunched shoulders bearing His burden,

The others hardly grasping on, as

He leads them forward-progressing onward.

The ceremony, gold-robes-candles glowing-

Ornaments – incense-jewels-chanting-

trivia!

Stepping off the curb, with nine young girls

Nearby-sirens sounded-

Trucks screeched by – as I held on to

Three crying, frightened children-

Girls in white-angels-pure and mild and lonely

Crying children—

My candle out-and up to look and see with

Tears in my eyes his shoulders

Bearing the entire tomb of Christ, as

It tipped- and surely Christ held on

With one gentle nudge – as the masses

Swelled and children cried and the

Engines roared —unnoticed he balanced

The tomb – directed the youth and

The ceremonies continued with the chanting

Of the dignitaries; the bishop and priest –

How everyone repeats them –

He does — I do, too, for Him.

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