(inspired by the Pre-Raphaelite painting bearing the same title
by William Holman Hunt)
A crown of thorns adorn my head,
I am your King. For you I’ve bled,
for you I’ve tasted pain and death,
exhaling ‘Abba’ in my breath.
Death lost its power. I slipped
miraculously from its grip -
for neither Hades, not the night
are able to retain my Light.
The deepest darkness can’t conceal
the one who can give life and heal.
I am your Saviour. Behold,
I am the Light of the World,
I’m standing at your closed door
which never opened before.
The hinges rusted, grass untamed
surrounds it. Your soul, maimed,
has lost its simple inner trust,
but, from today on, you must
unbolt and let me in. I knock,
although no latch, no lock
can ever keep me outside;
no gate, no fence, no wall can hide
your shrinking body from my view -
I am your God. I want that you
could make at last your own choice
and upon hearing my voice
without hiding anything
could welcome me. I am your King.
7 September 2011