Good Friday

I know not why we call that dark day good
When Jesus took our wounds upon his back.
And oh the pain that lived where that cross stood,
Where Father forsook Son and sun fell black.
Search Mary's tortured heart and anguished soul
And tell me if you can what good she felt.
When Jesus spoke of John in his new role,
Behind the words Behold your son, death dwelt.
And yet with God, as often seems the case,
Our greatest joy oft follows greatest pain.
For two long days they longed to see His face,
Til on the third He vanquished sin's dark stain.
Dark Friday ended with the cross, the grave.
But Easter Sunday shows his power to save.