Page 13 - Fasting Poems

And they couldn’t - because his time had not yet come.
Luke 4 - 29-30
They got up, drove him out of the town, and took him to the brow of the hill on which the town was built, in order to throw him off the cliff. But he walked right through the crowd and went on his way.
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Angry men, with angry faces, lifting sticks and wielding clubs, have forced him to the very cliff-edge - their only plan, to see him fall
He’s let them push him, drive him onwards, from synagogue to market square, a violent mob with riotous calls
They don’t accept he might be chosen, can’t believe he’s come from God They saw him as a little child, first-born of lowly carpenter
Then he’s back, and making claims, that he is special now. The Rabbi led the shouting down, to end the sour encounter
And now he’s stood just where they want, his back against thin air They jeer and jostle, shout and curse,
The cry to kill him getting worse
But he’s a rock, unmoving, calm, as if he has no care
The crowd begin to quiet down, the noise becoming less Those at the front are watching him
As the sound behind them dims
His look to them is all of love, his eyes appear to bless
The closest ones are moving back, they cannot meet his gaze They sense a need to leave it here
Their heads bowed down with fear
They look upon the strength of God His peaceful face portrays
The crowd push back against each other, jumping from his path He starts to move, with certain stride
Their weapons now are cast aside
He walks right through the townsfolk all, a silent aftermath
They never spoke of it again, the day they challenged Christ No-one quite knew what to say