Wandering the streets did little to calm,
his mind’s wanting to smash each Pharisee,
to go up to the Roman Soldiers who divided his spoil,
and tell them just who they had killed.
Thomas, tears ever present in his eyes,
found solace in the garden,
and weeping he knelt in the very place
where Jesus had been,
groaning, angry beyond words with
God who’d deserted them.
He walked back through the busy streets
and into their space and his rage
showed in his fury at the pretence of them
his beloved Jesus had returned.
Nonsense his mind cried. Believe them beat his heart.
and he wanted so much to throw something,
swear and curse.
He turned and saw what they had seen before,
a man brutally beaten and battered, crucified.
He mouthed a thought but could say not a word.
Jesus seeing his pain showed him the side,
where the sword has passed through and
invited his touch and in the very nail holes too.
Shocked, guilt spread through his soul,
and kneeling he could only say, “My
Lord and my God.’
And after, his heart pulsed with pleasure,
He was chosen after all.