Blood and Water


Aye, there was a death alright.

Sent me back to finish off

The three of them.

Clubbed, smashed legs

For the two rogues.

Breathing becomes impossible.

Third one looked already gone.

They told me He’d been different;

Calm, connecting with some Spirit.

Eyes closed, serene

Like a worker in a well-earned sleep.

He seemed out of place.

Nasty business for One

Who had taught peacefully in town.

So I’m told.

Feeling the ugliness of my job

I thrust with spear,

Bringing on a queer eruption

Of blood and water.

Happens sometimes.

Convulsive internal rupture

Confirming death.

We spared His legs.

Those who remained

Around the cross

Were all in tears.

As if something great had broken

Inside them too.

(1 John 5: 6-8)

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