Maundy Thursday Vigil

The twilight of the garden enfolds.
The snores of sleeping friends
half mock, half reassure.
The silence of the church wraps round.
Pews creak, passing cars distract,
friends known long years kneel, deep in thought.
Within the darkness lurks a danger.
Passing footsteps signal threat - 
forced removal to a place of agony,
exposed, betrayed and shamed for all to see.
Break out into bitter dawn of first light,
into the milling, ceaseless city and its strife.
Return to pressing business and anxiety
or comfort of the daily chores
while He goes onward to Calvary.
This brief vigil, stark in its simplicity,
Remains an empty cavern in the heart,
a time looked back to as the year rolls on,
"Remember me, remember that I am.'

© Janet Henderson 2014