Already Saturday?

I went to the cross today to see Jesus,

but Jesus wasn’t there.

I heard the hubbub of the masses,

the sweet, sickly murmurs of the faithful,

but no voice from heaven or, indeed, from the cross.

And where I’d expected to see him, hanging,

a bruised reed, a snuffed wick,

an enfeebled, bloodied mess,

I saw only smudged colours projected before me.

I went to the cross today to see Jesus,

but Jesus wasn’t there.

Is it already Saturday?

Jesus, if you were there today and I missed you,

remember me when you enter your kingdom.