did jesus,
being god,
know that it would come out right?
as he stood,
his rigidity involuntary
did he know he had
a window in his diary
between friday and sunday,
brief and delimited,
for death?
did he know
that god was in his heaven,
in charge
in control
and that these present sufferings
counted as nothing?

or did jesus,
being human,
doubt?

as he hung there,
his life draining away,
did he face the abyss
and see himself
a speck,
beyond the attention of god?
did he reach the limit
of his self-
and his Self-belief?
did the idea
that he would save the world
appear the supreme egotism?
did the
fear
panic
abandonment
overwhelm him?
did he wish he’d settled down,
had a kid,
joined the family business
(the other family business)?
my god, my god, why have you forsaken me?

the unassumed is the unhealed
said gregory of nazianzus
(clever bloke).

i find the answer to these questions
when i look into myself
and see
poverty of faith
frailty of conviction
bare flickering of hope
and selfishness of ambition.
how could anyone save me
without taking these human experiences
and annealing them in the fire of god?

where, o death, is your sting?
close now.