By Mark Tronson

Thought of a passer by! “What’s happening?”

Deplorable scene before his eyes. Epic tragedy.

“You there, Yes you!” The voice authoritarian.

No mistaken identity. Gaze direct. Eyes piercing.

“Carry this!” was the rough and ready order.

The great crossbeam pressed on its hapless victim.

Transferred he bore the load with reluctant strength.

Awkward. Cumbersome. Menacing. Frightening.

Unrelenting they pressed toward the mount.

Crowd followed. Casualty. Ensnared and pitied.

Guards bullied. A calamity, no time to waste.

A few hours to sunset. Locals and their Rules.

Arrival. None too soon. The pilgrim’s back sorely ached.

Weight relinquished. Time to stretch. Time to muse.

No mercy here. The hammer and nails impatiently wait.

A sign. What does it read? Royalty! What is this?

Chilling. Steel on steel. Torn flesh, bloodied stake.

Women weeping. Tormented, disconsolate, despair.

Others mocking, sneering. Game of chance garments go.

What words then are these? Forgiveness! No sense.

Two fiends, one on either side. Deserving of their plight.

Conversation between the three. Accusation. Submission.

>From one a prudent and just perception. Innocent, yet not I.

Pledge of life. But who can give assurance such as this?

A desolate cry against the blackened sky. Finished?

Spear is driven. The soldier’s test of life. Gushing.

Blood and Water. What means this? Symbolism?

An officer’s words. Genuine amiss. Son of whom?

Who was this man? What confusing thing is this?

Utterances! Forgiveness? Assurance? Finished?

Hope revealed? To whom did he speak? Eternity?

What means this all? Calvary? Blood? For you and me? u

(Title word Imprescient means not knowing what is going to happen)