Good Friday Hurts
Good Friday always hurts me, makes me see
the cross and driven nails, the crown of thorns
and hear the cries and weep for Calvary
and not rejoice in resurrection morn.
For pictures flash before me, clear and haunting
of Judas and Gethsemane and swords
of pain and wounds and suffering so daunting
I need the comfort of God's living words.
So He reminds me of the empty tomb
the angels wearing white who clearly said
the Son of God the grave could not consume
why seek the risen Lord among the dead?
Then I sing a song of praise on bended knee
that I know the One who gave His life for me.
Published by Linda Louise Johnson
Linda Louise Johnson is an animal lover, crafter and hobbyist, graphic art afficionado and veteran writer. Her work has been featured on Associated Content, Yahoo! News, and eHow as well as in Poetry Garden,... View profile
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44 Comments
Post a Commentback to visit, Linda Lou! I'm spending more time on other website, but just had to visit! Thanks for playing Words with Friends with me on Facebook!
This is gorgeous. I feel deeply the same way and feel grateful to get to read such a beautiful poem about the most incredible act of love our Savior willingly suffered for each of us who will love him and accept his most precious gift, Himself.
We still miss you around here. Come back and say Hi sometime. How's married life? I wish you well!
I know I'm late seeing this but it is beautiful. I hope you're at least checking in and will be back to write some more here!
Wow...Lovely poem. I hope you will take a moment to check out my poetry as well.
back to visit!
that is a great poem maybe you could read mine some time i am still fairly new and still looking around to find more poets
This captures it!
An outstanding poem. It captures both the pain and the hope of the moment beautifully.
Its hard to make through Good Friday without feeling the pain. Particularly, when we realize we were part of the problem.