It is a good Friday.
Although I cant see why.
Its 3 pm, now
He has just breathed his last.
I could hear the cry-
The cry of anguish
Pain-filled and yet triumphant
“It is Finished.”
It is a good Friday
Although my life seems tortured
Not by a cross perhaps
But by debts, and expectations unmet,
It is day- and yet
Its dark-and the sun does not shine
I’m pain filled and beat, and wish
“It is Finished.”
Is it a good Friday?
When here in bed I lie
And around me we cough and die
And its no longer a lie - it could be you or I
The globe is bowed down,
The old and sick breath weak and gasp
And hope, despite all hope
“It was finished”
Yes, it’s a good Friday- yet
the grave will not have the final word
Although it is been bad and terribly hard
And may have to wait a day, another and third
BUT, but if – and only if Christ arose,
If Death could be trumped
That mortal enemy vanquished
“It is Finished.”
It’s a Good Friday
I'll look beyond the gloom of today and tomorrow
And wait for the glorious third day, when
“It is Finished.”