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His Eyes

by louis gander
6/06/2019 / Short Stories

The multitude

was not subdued

with Jesus on display.

So I pushed near,

to better hear

what they all had to say.

It was his task

that Pilate ask,

Are You King of the Jews?

With Jesus mute

there was dispute

and so the crowd would choose.

Barabbas won,

so on the run

good Peter tried to hide.

The time was grim

when asked of him,

but three times he denied.

Now at the cross

was greater loss
with torture and with pain.
From crown of thorn
to nails and scorn,
would someone please explain?

Though not His fault,
they would not halt.

Was this unstoppable?

I called His name

so I could blame

the one responsible.

Above the din

I asked again,

"Oh, whose sin it could be?"

Through blood and sweat

I won't forget

when His eyes turned to me.

Copyright 2021 by louis gander.
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