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The Centurion
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Poem of Easter Week through the eyes of a Centurion
This Poem of Kath's unrolls the events of Holy Week as experienced by a Roman Centurion.
What a week this has been!
I’m a soldier, a fighting machine.
My sword and spear are honed and my armour shines like the sun
As it glints upon the water.
Guarding heretics and robbers frankly doesn’t push my buttons.
The one in the middle was a strange one,
Not your usual miscreant,
Though he was a thorn in Pilate’s side and no mistake.
Preaching and professing that he was the chosen one,
the Messiah, a king.
It was bound to get him in hot water with the Sanhedrin.
I was there in the olive grove the night he was arrested.
Amidst the mob, he was calm,
He didn’t put up much of a fight,
Seeming to accept this was his fate.
He spoke of drinking from the cup his Father .......