Why be surprised that you betrayed me, too?

There were three other Judases. Why not you?

They also ate the bread of my flesh,

Sipped my wine-blood decanted afresh.

In Gethsemane, some vigil kept

While others, tired of piety, slept.

Judas kissed my crucifixion awake,

For thirty nails, shining silver take.

Your betrayal is the stigmata on my palms.

My lips taste the vinegar of your compassion.  

I wearing  a pain-thorn’d crown, recite your psalms.

You rejected me, and became my Resurrection.

F.S. AIJAZUDDIN

22 May 2016, 9.00 am.