The rising darkness calmed the chaos
That filled the streets of Zion town
The insects chirruped 'round us
as we walked toward higher ground.
Desirous to see the flood of Jewish pilgrims
arriving from all around.
A cry cuts the quiet night.
"Abba!"
"Let this cup pass!"
Peering 'round an olive tree
We struggle in twilight to see
a man in throes of agony.
like one cast out by the tide
fearful of the sea.
Torches! A crowd comes crashing by, arms glittering in the light.
Flowing toward the man, ready for a fight.
A kiss and crash of sharpened steel
The crowd reels.
The man in pain controls the field
And heals the harm from him who wields
Then, calmly yields.
The crowd seizes him and then
flows back towards the town again,
the chaos from which it came.