You Were On His Mind (a poem for Good Friday) by Sean Peters

When the Roman guards began to thrash
his bare back with their flagrums loaded with sharp pieces of bone.
When the flesh began to pull away with every lash,

You were on his mind

When he was coronated with a crude crown of jagged thorns
and rods smashed against his head again and again and again
causing swelling to occur which drove the thorns deeper
and caused the blood to flow more freely,

You were on his mind

When they strapped the patibulum to his bloodied shoulders
and spat upon him as he stumbled down the via dolorosa
falling face first in the dirt
with the full force of the 80 pound crossbeam
crashing down upon him,

You were on his mind

As his blood continued to flow and hypovolemia began to set in.
And when the spikes were driven into his wrists,
crushing the median nerve, sending waves of excruciating
(which means "out of the cross") pain through his body.
And as he forced himself up to catch his breath,
scraping his raw back against the rough Roman cross,

You were on his mind

And as he choked out "it is finished,"
bowed his head and gave up his spirit,

You were on his mind

He did this all for you

Because of agape

Because of love


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