jesus on the cross

On top of Golgotha,
In that grotesque skull mountain, was a man,
Who rejected divinity and made himself available for a sacrifice. 
And in that somber view, you can see two thieves on either side
And a man, who could not leave behind a bigger legacy.
His bearded 33 year old face, now embellishing millions of churches
Around the world, while crucifixes
Are found in all corners on Slovenian mountain towns
And Sri Lankan coastal belt and even among safari parks in Kenya.
Just before he died, he gave a blind man sight, and tasted sour vinegar.
And now 2000 years after, we celebrate this man,
In an offering of bread and wine, flesh and blood,
As his household name echoes through
Pews of churches, to organ music, and to solemn prayer,
And even to a clumsy exclamation, a soft “jeez” – Jesus.
Showing how even a mosquito bite, can summon
That ubiquitous man. What else but a blood meal,
To reminisce for a second, how a tiny open wound can,
Plant a virus inside, while a different blood meal
Refuels souls gathering on Sundays for mass.
And blood is at the centerpiece, of stigmata and a mosquito bite,
Two open wounds on human skin, spilling blood.
The weaponized proboscis as deadly as a six-inch nail

One thought on “Stigmata

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