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Sunday, March 1, 2009

Christ Kissed Strings


Bows skip and dance across wildly vibrating strings
Reminding me of deep, eternal things,
Of places where words find me at loss 
I speak as I kneel at the foot of the cross.
In Friday ritual composers inherently know
That much can be said with string and bow 
The sigh, the plea, the bending low,
The curses and blessings that freely flow.

When depth profound is this way plumbed
My walls break down and I succumb
To truth that tastes likely gravel-laced bite
Consumed in solitude on darkest night.

My sins once hid behind fig leaves  
"It's just your imagination, please!"
"No need for blood or nail or scar" 
These words are spoke by bold-faced Liar.

I swallow hard, digesting words of truth
     laid bare with song
And ponder love that kept Christ there,   
     in agony prolonged.
His last words scant are opened wide
     for all to contemplate.
Such love! Such hate! Such God-configured fate!


Then gentle music turns my head
Toward cave-like tomb with empty bed
The fierce and biting sounds of war
Dissolve in peace; the fight is o'er!
How can a piece of wood with strings
Tell me of God and deep, deep things?
A gift from heavenvast, rich tunes
Plant seeds of Life beyond all moons.

I thank you, Lord, for skillful ways
For those that practice, turn each phrase
Into a golden thread from heaven
That ties my heart to words of seven.*
On Festive Night the Giver of grace
Is honored thus in holy space
With music, tender, bold, forlorn,
Illumining cross and love-streaked thorn.

© 2007 Nancy Gerst             

 *Written in anticipation of the 2007 Good Friday Tenebrae Service 
which included the musical setting of  
The Seven Last Words of Christ by Theodore Dubuois.