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His Eyes

by louis gander © 2019

The multitude
was not subdued
with Jesus on display.
So I pushed near,
to better hear
what they all had to say.

It was his task
that Pilate ask,
Are You King of the Jews?
With Jesus mute
there was dispute
and so the crowd would choose.

Barabbas won,
so on the run
good Peter tried to hide.
The time was grim
when asked of him,
but three times he denied.

Now at the cross
was greater loss
with torture and with pain.
From crown of thorn
to nails and scorn,
would someone please explain?

Though not His fault,
they would not halt.
Was this unstoppable?
I called His name
so I could blame
the one responsible.

Above the din
I asked again,
"Oh, whose sin it could be?"
Through blood and sweat
I won't forget
when His eyes turned to me.

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This poem won 2nd place for the June 2019 poetry contest

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