When Jesus Christ was in Gethsemane,

awaiting love's most fateful human kiss,

He wondered if a greater enemy

would tempt him into everlasting bliss.

The scorpions of every desert rock

began to dance with claustrophobic grace.

Forlorn, a sheep had wandered from its flock.

Its shepherd disappeared without a trace.

The moment of the emptiness of time

approached, and spread its bat-like wings

across the earth, to celebrate the crime.

In secret, Judas loved this King of Kings.

Without a word, the Old gave way to New.

Without the false, the Word could not be true.

from "Post-Existential Sonnets," Folio I
by Tom Mellett, Austin, Texas, 1987

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