A Poem for Good Friday

THE WAY OF PAIN by Wendell Berry

For parents, the only way is hard.
There is no help.
Yet we who give pain give love;
By pain we learn the extremity of love.

I read of Abraham’s sacrifice the Voice required of him,
So that he led to the altar and the knife his only son.
The beloved life was spared that time, but not the pain.
It was the pain that was required.

I read of Christ crucified,
The only begotten Son
Sacrificed to flesh and time and all our woe.
He died and rose, but who does not tremble for his pain, his loneliness,
And the darkness of the sixth hour?

Unless we grieve like Mary at His grave,
Giving him up as lost,
No Easter Morning comes.