Lord, we are busy at this hour

With many things in mind:

Our family, our work,

And our weekend plan.

Oh yes,

The annual tax return to Uncle Sam

Has not escaped our attention.

We are mindful of the deadline

That is right after the Easter Sunday.

Sorry that we almost forgot:

At this very hour

On that very Day,

You were already nailed to the Crucifix.

Perhaps at this very hour,

You pronounced your forgiveness

To those who crucified you.

But did they hear and care?

Perhaps at this very hour,

The two thieves beside you

Joined the chorus

From the crowd below

To sneer and jeer at you.

But did they know

What a folly they do?

Not every one joined the chorus.

Your mom was bearing the sorrow

Of piercing pain as foretold by Simeon.

The beloved John was standing by her.

Was it at this hour?

You asked him

To care for her

In her remainder years.

As high noon came

The Sun turned dark

Was it at this very hour

When the cursing subsided?

One of the two thieves

Begged for your mercy

And got the promise?

Was it in the next hour

When the sorrow and pain

Turned heavier and weightier,

To the point of your

Crying out to the Father

Who appeared to have ignored

The cry of the Sin-bearer?

Was it then in the final hour

When perspiration drained your body

To unquenchable thirst?

Was the wine vinegar

The last and least

Humanitarian act you received?

Surely it was fulfilling

The least noticeable detail

Of the prophecies

Why should it be?

The Lord of life

Shall breath out

His last breath,

And bow down

His head,

And surrender

His spirit.

But not before you proclaimed

"It is finished."

Yes!

It is finished!

(Composed on the Good Friday, April 13, 2001)