On Listening to the St Matthew Passion
(Easter 2006)
Once again the banished tears
run down my face,
for that dear, wounded head
who came to save the world, and bring us peace,
and was crucified instead.
And feel once more the lost
faith of my youth,
caught up in the music's flow
almost revive, come back in its living truth,
as it was, long ago.
Poor King, poor son of man,
who died for love
and lived, love's metaphor,
seeing this war-crazed world how you must grieve
that what we were, we are.
And once again the tears
run down and spill,
and almost choke my breath,
for all who believe, or don't believe, for all
who offered love, choose death.
Copyright 2010-2012 Paul Petrie