I wrote this poem for Easter 2010.

By Christine Taylor (March 2010)

Tonight Jesus prays in the Garden.
The Last Supper things are put away
Passover is past
In Gethsemane, disciples are sleeping and their Lord is alone.
And He will stay that way.
In the next few hours He will face torment and death —

Soon, soon He will surge up from the cold stone
Unwind the corpse wrappings
Kick down the big rock they thought would stop Him –
Soon. But not tonight.

Tonight is the alone time
The desperate prayer time
The sweating-blood time
With “Let this cup pass from me!”
“… but oh my father, not my will but Thine be done.”

Soon, soon He will burst out of the tomb
And in the Garden the Magdalen will fall at his feet
And the Emmaus disciples will feel their hearts burn
And they’ll run back to Jerusalem, run!
Soon — but not tonight.

Tonight they come for Him.
The column of men with their spitting torches
Smoking torches burning dark fire.
Looks like a fire snake,
Looks like the first snake dripping poison from the trees of Eden
Slithering up the hill to another garden.

Soon, soon Jesus will come again in glory
And the skies will split and the angels roar
Rank on rank the celestial army pours through the skies behind their Prince.
Soon — but not tonight.

Tonight He waits for the death-kiss
The Judas-kiss
The 20-pieces-of-silver kiss.
And He takes it, this kiss, like a slap.
Now. Tonight.
His time is not yet come.

And when they ask Him who He is
When they ask Him
He answers “I AM.”
The great name of God that Moses heard,
They hear it too and fall down like dead men.

Then He goes quiet and still.
He un-says His great name
He un-says His divinity
He un-says Himself.
Tonight he has no name.
He is the prisoner. The condemned. The lamb.
For tonight.

And because of tonight, then for you — soon, soon –
There will be the healing you long for
There will be the joy you prayed for
There will be the heart’s desire you ache for.

Not tonight — tonight is the night of torchlight and shadows.
But oh my children, the way of night is the way to morning.
Striped light time, dawn time, day time.
And I say to you, not tonight —
But soon. Oh my children, very soon.