of the friend who died, the friends who didn’t understand
didn’t comprehend who he was,
what his personage meant, the power he had
over life, over death, over our lives
He wept for our ignorance, our unbelief,
the corruption of the conserver mentality of the powers that be
because they want to remain the powers that be
He wept for the friend who had to die, who must be
sacrificed, as he would be, so we would see, understand
be illuminated to who he was, because we were too weak
to hear and believe. He wept for the sisters
He wept for the brothers who followed him
He wept for the elders; maybe, just maybe, he wept for himself
Jesus began to weep, tears that ultimately healed
November 8, 2006 1:17am, about the sermon by the Reverend Peter Hey, Wesley United Methodist Church, November 5, 2006
John 11:32-44
35 Jesus began to weep.
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of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004,
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See all 30,770+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com
Poetry Where You Live.
Nice. Is the subject en vogue? I have myself recently posted on the same subject: Hematidrosis in the olive grove
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