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Blood and Water

Aye, there was a death alright.
Sent me back to finish off
The three of them.
Clubbed, smashed legs
For the two rogues.
Breathing becomes impossible.
Third one looked already gone.
They told me He’d been different;
Calm, connecting with some Spirit.
Eyes closed, serene
Like a worker in a well-earned sleep.
He seemed out of place.
Nasty business for One
Who had taught peacefully in town.
So I’m told.
Feeling the ugliness of my job
I thrust with spear,
Bringing on a queer eruption
Of blood and water.
Happens sometimes.
Convulsive internal rupture
Confirming death.
We spared His legs.
Those who remained
Around the cross
Were all in tears.
As if something great had broken
Inside them too.

(1 John 5: 6-8)