Saturday, 30 March 2013

low saturday meditatio

low saturday meditatio

crossing the great divide -

there you lie in a borrowed grave
your embalmed body bereft of breath,
you claim you crossed the great divide
that spans between life and death.

how could you cross that divide
that cuts the living from the dead?
when you yourself are sleeping in limbo
not a step you could tread?

the ancients tell us that on this day
you descended into the dungeons of hell,
to set at liberty the hidden captives
the gospel proclaimed, bidding all's well.

even in death you continued to conquer
trampling on the devil, sin and death.
because you crossed the great divide
new life and hope you could bequeath.

crossing the great divide -

anthony loke. low saturday. 30th march 2013.

between good friday and holy saturday

between good friday and holy saturday

a man died at 3pm on a cross
he is taken down and embalmed by his friends
and laid in a borrowed tomb
where his mourners had no time to mourn
for the sabbath was beginning.

in the darkness of the night
in a borrowed tomb
laid a man who died crucified
was that the end of his short life?
and will his life become another memory?

his friends returned to their homes
to a sabbath they cannot enjoy
with the death of their dear friend
still lingering in their minds
they wonder how will next week be?

Friday, 29 March 2013

good friday genuflexion

good friday genuflexion

ekah! i stood at the foot of the cross
beneath his piercing gaze;
i knew he was looking at me
sad and yet amazed.

how could i turn my face
towards this bruised sight;
i averted my eyes and hoped not
to see this dimmed light.

his penetrating gaze, his piercing eyes
i cannot hope to unlock.
his comforting words, his gentle voice
i was unable to block.

'do you love me more than these?'
'will you deny me thrice tonight?'
'will you feed my lambs and sheep?'
'do you always run from the light?'

beneath the shadow of the cross
i stood silent without a word.
'what more could i say to you
who died in my place, o lord'.

anthony loke. good friday. 29th march 2013.

Thursday, 28 March 2013

gethsemane prayer

tonight two thousand years ago,
a saviour prayed on our behalf.
alone in the garden,
he knelt in the rough.

his other disciples,
tired and forsaking.
went to sleep instead,
with the night beckoning.

the saviour wrestled for us,
tears and sweat poured down.
in a little moment more,
away he will be bound.

if only the trees could speak,
what a story they will tell.
but silent witnesses they are,
they cannot ring a bell.

stand alone with these trees,
and open your ears to the wind.
hear their quiet whispers,
above the noise and din.

they tell you about a saviour,
who knelt and prayed.
so that generations of disciples,
will never be strayed.

anthony loke. maundy thursday, 28th march 2013.