by Elizabeth de Barros

trying to find the vein

to say what

kicking stones

to form a clear thought

managing to weep a dry tear

in the midst of what is and could be

.  .  .

Man of sorrows

when the world watched your veins pop

You were throwing down their stones

but they didn’t know it

they didn’t know it

.  .  .

When You wept over the city

beneath the stars

You made

You wept for Jerusalem

but they received You not

didn’t know the time

couldn’t see the clock

Kingship on a donkey

spit in some mud

wrestled demons

riddled rulers

healed on the Sabbath

cried foul in the temple

but they didn’t know it

no, they didn’t know it

.  .  .


He’s weeping over the city

holding up the stars

coming back in power



Be identified


Be counted —


©2008 Elizabeth DeBarros