ALONE
* a poem for Good Friday *
* after Isaiah 53 *
Can this be You, the One Whom we revere alone, Godhead masked as man when You appeared alone? You slung our sorrows on Your shoulders, burden-bowed, Our recompense was nothing more than jeers alone. You ate the anguish of our bitter broken hearts, Pierced on passion's point, You drank the drear alone. O Word Who keeps His peace, You swallowed all our shame, Embracing nails and thorns and cross and spear alone. Sinless, sin-sick One, You wrestled death by death, You blood-bought all Your children's dark arrears alone. Now, O Jesus, day has broken—light leaps free— We're welcomed home with You in Heaven's sphere alone.
Some Thoughts on the Poem
Blessed Good Friday, friends.
This poem is written in ghazal form, an Arabic poetic form consisting of couplets. Each couplet ends on the same word (the radif), which is preceded by a rhyming word (the qafia). In the first couplet, both the radif and the qafia are repeated. The final couplet contains a proper name, which is usually the name of the poet.
I was inspired to attempt this form by my lovely friend Alexis Ragan, who just published an absolutely GORGEOUS ghazal in Inkwell’s Lenten poetry collection. Please read mine before you read hers—it’s not an act I want to follow! (But in all seriousness, do go read hers here.)
My ghazal is a poetic reimagining of Isaiah 53, one of the most beautifully prophetic passages in the Bible—both enigmatic and startlingly clear. I’ve envisioned each pair of verses in Isaiah 53 as one of the couplets in this poem, and working through the passage poetically has been a good, deep work for my imagination as I enter more fully into the abject horror and the hard-won hope that is Good Friday.
One final note: the proper name in the last couplet is, of course, that of Jesus. This poem is through and about and for Him. Yet, mindful of the custom of including the poet’s name as well, I’ve hidden part of my name syllabically in the final couplet as well. (Let me know if you can find it!) This is not only a nod to true ghazal form but also a grateful declaration that my name—my life—is hidden in Christ. Soli Deo Gloria.
Let us both weep and wonder today.