Through Calvary

When birds flew
to their nests
at dusk.
When foxes stole
to their holes
to rest.
When squirrels picked
the last of the nuts.
When deer lie down
to lick the frost
from their coats.
When labourers
left their fields
for homes
in a winter's eve.

Then I, met a man,
a stranger from
Judean hills,
in the cool colonnade
of swaying trees at dusk.

He struggled
step by step,
under the heavy load
of a wooden cross.

"What," I queried,
"is that for?"
"My Master," said he,
"bid me come
and follow Him.
This cross
I carry,
and walk in His steps."

'Twas a moonlit night
and he moved on
under the starry skies.
The clouds arrived
to dim the light.

"I must die," said he,
"to have life,
abundant life,
eternal life."

The night turned
into day.
A day

of bright sunshine,
of clouds and rains,
of all seasons.

He neared his death
day by day.
He left his dreams,
one by one.
And he moved on
to die his death,
towards his home
through Calvary.