Gethsemane

There in the garden,

When the moon was high and day became night,

And the still trees overlooked our path,

You stopped us along the verdant passage,

And told us to wait, to pray,

Then you left, but I needed to follow,

For I had followed you that far,

And I would continue to do so as long as you needed me,

And so I watched your hushed footsteps,

Heard the gentle crushing of leaves,

Your tempered breathing,

And even through the shadowy figures,

Cast by trees and shifting clouds,

I could see you kneel down,

To the cold, solid earth beneath your tired feet,

You cried, and you shook,

You trembled and dug your hands into the soil,

Sobs escaping your lips,

Asking for another way, pleading for your Father's will,

And as you prayed, and broke,

Beads of crimson blood formed on your fevered brow,

And I longed to kiss that brow,

To calm you, to ask of you,

To tell you I am your friend,

And I've followed you this far,

And I won't stop.

But your look of longing to be alone was evident,

As you spread your hands,

Lifting them toward the clouded heavens,

Beyond the boundaries of tears,

And in full surrender, humility,

Your voice ascended in words I could not understand,

I nearly came to your side in aid when you rose to your feet,

But stumbled,

Fell back to your knees in weakness,

A weary spirit, a tired body,

A heart of love,

Love that caused your entire being to be torn in two,

That brought you pain, humility,

Victorious death,

And I was blind to how much you longed for me,

For your people,

For them to live with you in perfect peace,

In a world without sin,

... and this was the only way.