Saturday, the Third Week of Lent
Some days it’s just hard to hope
harder than to hate.
The hangman waits with mail order justice
the funny thing is it arrives with postage due
someone has to pay.
The occupant is Jesus starving cold and thirsty
and he has to pay again.
Years ago
when they buried flesh and bones and blood
of this man called Jesus
he rose a god.
This god-ghost haunts the empty houses
hangs out in national monuments
hangs in art galleries
stands on street corners
and occasionally skips Mass on Sundays
to care for one of his brothers.
But no one misses him.
Some days it’s just hard to hope
because maybe you’ve never hoped before
and it feels like despair now
to hope at a time like this
when there’s nothing else to do.
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