The Broken Temple Poem by Daleen Enslinstrydom

The Broken Temple



With the Sabbath almost upon us
as the sun is setting in the west
we had just laid Him down in the tomb.

This was the worst day of my life
and I was only a spectator of the horrors of this day
but a few days ago we were all a group of disciples
that was serving Him.

We walked together, talked together, ate together
and we were a family
that even competed to who will be the greatest
in His coming kingdom.

We witnessed His wonders and miracles
and to us He was the centre of our world.
We never doubted His authority,
His karma was contagious,
people came from far and wide
to listen to His messages
and it was as if His voice was carried
by the wind.

He healed people and demons were cast out
but now He is dead
and the soldier’s spear is stained with His blood
and his robes are distributed
among the roman soldiers.

His body is torn, he was whipped,
and His blood dripped on the cobbled stones of Jerusalem
and how could a mere mortal endure such pain
without uttering a word?

The sun is setting with the Sabbath upon us
but His words do remain:
“This temple will be rebuilt in three days.”

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Daleen Enslinstrydom

Daleen Enslinstrydom

Springs, South Africa
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