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Simon Peter

It was dark in the garden
when that night Judas
and a crowd of soldiers
and officials with clubs
and swords came near
and I heard Judas saying:

“Greetings Master, ” kissing Him
and the Lord asked:
“Friend, why have you come? ”
But it was clear that Judas
was betraying Him

and when Malchus with some soldiers
stepped up to Jesus and seized Him
I draw my sharp sword
and chopped off his ear
trying to drive them back.

The Lord said to me:
“Peter, put away your sword
or you will die by it. Don’t you know
that my Father will send
twelve legions of angels
if I ask Him? And shall I
not do as my Father commands me? ”

The Lord took the ear from the ground
attaching it to Malchus’s head
and then asked the crowd:

“Am I a rebel leader
for you to come to me armed
with clubs and swords? While
I taught at the temple almost every day
you didn’t arrest me.”

They bound Him
and only John and I
followed Him to the residence of Annas
and John went in
since he was know to the high priest
and I waited outside that door,
but it was cold
and then John brought me in.

The girl on duty at the door asked
if I am not one of the Lord’s disciples
and then I denied it, being afraid
that they would arrest me too.

It was very cold and I shivered
and I stood close to a fire
with some servants and officials
to warm myself and saw a official
striking Jesus in the face.

At the fire one of the officials asked
if I am not one of the disciples of Jesus
and again I denied it,
as these were very dangerous men.

A relative of Malchus then challenged me:
“Didn’t I see you in the garden? Aren’t you
a Galilean? ” And again I denied it
and then a cock crowed
while the Lord turned and looked at me
and I remembered Him saying:

“Before the cock crows today
you will renounce me three times, ”
and I saw nothing but love
and understanding in His eyes.

I was ready to defend Him
with a drawn sword
but wasn’t brave enough
to admit being his disciple

and my heart was filled
with sudden anguish
and I went outside, into that cold night
and wept bitterly, hearing those men
mocking and beating Him.

poem by Gert Strydom
Added by Poetry Lover
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