Did you ever wonder why, <br />As you hung upon the cross, <br />we weren’t ready for your words? <br />if we were worth the price it cost? <br /> <br />At a place they call the skull, <br /> hung upon a tree to die, <br />With nails that pierce your wrists and feet, <br />and dying thieves on either side. <br /> <br />“Others he did save, <br /> but he cannot save himself” <br />Executed like a slave, <br />By a Rome malignant to itself. <br /> <br />As you spoke your final words <br />And then hung your head to die <br />Did you fear you were heard only <br />By the sparrows and the sky? <br /> <br />When the Pilus pierced your side <br />And the water flowed like blood <br />Had you already breathed your last? <br />Had darkness overcome the sun? <br /> <br />Do you miss the wine and water? <br />The perfume in the Magdalene’s hair? <br />When I journey to Emmaus, <br />Will you accompany me there? <br /> <br />Our hearts will burn like fire <br />For love of him thought dead <br />When again we recognize you, <br />In the breaking of the bread.<br /><br />John F. McCullagh<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-road-to-emmaus/
