The Garden

The Garden
I don’t want to be here
My insides convulse with fear;
Is there a way out?
What if I just walk away?

I can’t sleep, I hear every sound;
Senses on red alert
The snoring of my friends
Father how can they sleep?

Father, I know your will
We are one.
Angel whispers; “Do not be afraid”
The tempter retorts, “Walk away”

My cry wakes Peter from a slumber
I am sweating blood; I am cold – shivering
Torches approach up the hill – it is coming.

Father hold me close; Spirit fill me
We are one
Judas.  A kiss. A scuffle.  A sword flashes
One more healing – My friends run away
It is done.

©  Colin Waldock April 2014


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