Where I stand at this, the most glorious morn!

                                                                                                            Chang Oh KANG

At the nightfall

Gethsemane Hill, looked tranquil of sweet slumbering

That spewed the tremor through veil of pitchy wall

Spirit is willing, flesh is weak yielding

Pride, false of followers to the end, surge

Rudely scuttled down on the verge

I love you Lord

I love you, till the end although others turn their backs

I love you, you know me sealed

The rooster slashes each vow of love, one by one by three crows

I don’t know him, I don’t know what you’re talking about

I don’t know him, three manifestos swearing, cursing shout

On the day

Pontius Pilate washes his hands,

Declaring the accused innocent convey

His blood be on us and on our children, the multitude cries

Slaughtering flame of the clamour rockets up the sky

The troubled road to Golgotha, truly long and awry

The standing cross on the hill forlorn

INRI inscribes wholly miserable and shameful

The final cruel curtain of the claimed, Saviour worn

The way, truth and life seemed lost disdainful

Why have you forsaken me? It is finished

He beseeched then, departed

At the morn

The dawn, exhilaratingly bright, breaking the dusk

Beam of life transforming from the shadow of death torn

The path to Emmaus so stirring and brisk

The gloomy, sad faces of the women walking fret

To the empty tomb yet

Startlingly, glee and jubilee that priceless,

They saw the living Lord standing next to the stone rolled away

The very first witnesses

Ready to proclaim the news, hope of eternity relay

Their feet hurried for spreading out the Lord’s resurrection

At this triumphant and the most glorious morn