"My God, My God"

the cry rings out.

Quiet. Then storm. Then dead-quiet.

No answer to that cry,

no respite for the needy.

But acknowledgement that

“I AM” is still “seated on the throne.”

I feel like a worm watching,

listening, hearing about

Your death. For me.

What tragedy—tragedy

of all tragedies—that

You died. For me.

But the Lord is not

far away. Even in death

there is still hope.   For me.

So for that, even in the

midst of death, we praise.

Even today, we join the unending

hymn of the angels, even now,

even then, still today.

Even those at “death’s door

bend knee before him.”

Even in this temporary turning,

there is ultimate rescue.

            -Selah