Into the Garden he slowly staggers
Anguish etched across his face,
Overwhelming sorrow brings him to his knees:
“Father, is there no one else to take my place?”
One hand brushes soil from the front of his robe
As the back of his other hand wipes away the last tear,
Knee prints and claw marks left on the mossy floor
Time with the Father is the only remedy to his fear.
Into the Garden he cautiously steps again
Repeating the posture and pleas said before,
While his friends lay soundly sleeping
He cries out his prayer once more.
The taste of salty tears lingers on his lips
As he finds solace leaning against a weathered tree,
Even as he makes his bold request, he accepts his Father’s will
Fulfilling his purpose requires this tortured act of mercy.
Into the Garden he searches for one more ounce of courage
Although his spirit is willing, his body still resists,
Even strengthened by an Angel
The ache in his heart persists.
Yet with a calm assurance, he leaves the shadows behind
And bids this sweet desperate hour of prayer “Adieu”,
The moment of glorious victory is now certain
As he lives out his decision to die for you.
Gethsemane
A poem based on Matthew 26:36-46.
