Eyes wide open. Bent limbs straightened.
Life direction altered. Forgiveness offered.
Where were they? On this day.
Did fear grip them?
Did busyness bind them?
Did memory fail them?
Why religion can scare away wisdom?
And uncertainty closes down possibility?
And how one chooses to kill?
And does having to be right cause blindness?
And angry? So angry.
How anyone could believe they might not be Peter?
Or shake a head knowing they would not have slept?
What love compels someone to know about cruel death?
And then to walk towards it to the end?
Why I sometimes act as if I don’t care?
Because I do.
If I can live into the meaning of Friday?
The unknowing of Saturday?