The Hour

Shimbo Pastory

This poem was published in The Catholic Post newspaper, London May 2022 Edition

This is the hour,
Man’s animosity at its peak
Is cast on him who loved him most
Evil it’s will sturdy, blind, high
Darkness savoured for light
Death haggled for life
A hate in turn for love
That we be saved from same.

For a token the traitor’d give a peck
God’s worth petty, shameful coins
Isolated thence thrice
Till the cock cries
He’s alone, this man of peace
Reduced, turned scene for sinners

He’s disgraced, though crowned
Scourged, pierced; mocked
By all, aliens, veterans and lads
Priests, troops, dukes and crooks

But, at this hallowed hour
It is all finished
The Carpenter is weak of art
Nails on him fastened
Torture in its zenith
His anguish in its peak
So also his mercy —
Lets off the wrongdoing

This is the hour
The glorious sundown
The Good God gasps his last.