The Robe
Take my robe from me, if you will
I have no need of this comfort now
Share the spoils, it really is of no matter
For I am as you, and I will meet you again one day
Will you return my robe to me then?
When you have found no warmth in its folds
Through the course of your life
In all your long unforgiving days
You will deny yourself of thoughts of me
Battling with your own shame
This I know, as I know your name
As I know all of you, like my own pain
But will you still hide from me at the end
Or long to return it to me, regrets inflamed
As you will have carried me with you
Righteousness unwilling to unbend
Forget it all now, forget it my friend
I will still be here, whatever you intend
Waiting for you, to realise, to comprehend
Love can be found, our hearts can mend
Leading up to Good Friday, the Stations of The Cross are often meditated and reflected upon. I have chosen this one, which I photographed in the church of St.Mary's, Eastbourne, East Sussex, UK, as sometimes all we are left with is the clothes on our backs at any given time. Here, they start to argue over Christ's Robe. Given recent events where people have had to leave their homes for new lands with just the clothes they stand up in, I found this image all the more poignant when I looked at it again recently.
These roundels are small brass depictions of the Stations of The Cross, kept on the walls of the West Tower.
For more images and poetry, have a look at my website:
The Robe
Take my robe from me, if you will
I have no need of this comfort now
Share the spoils, it really is of no matter
For I am as you, and I will meet you again one day
Will you return my robe to me then?
When you have found no warmth in its folds
Through the course of your life
In all your long unforgiving days
You will deny yourself of thoughts of me
Battling with your own shame
This I know, as I know your name
As I know all of you, like my own pain
But will you still hide from me at the end
Or long to return it to me, regrets inflamed
As you will have carried me with you
Righteousness unwilling to unbend
Forget it all now, forget it my friend
I will still be here, whatever you intend
Waiting for you, to realise, to comprehend
Love can be found, our hearts can mend
Leading up to Good Friday, the Stations of The Cross are often meditated and reflected upon. I have chosen this one, which I photographed in the church of St.Mary's, Eastbourne, East Sussex, UK, as sometimes all we are left with is the clothes on our backs at any given time. Here, they start to argue over Christ's Robe. Given recent events where people have had to leave their homes for new lands with just the clothes they stand up in, I found this image all the more poignant when I looked at it again recently.
These roundels are small brass depictions of the Stations of The Cross, kept on the walls of the West Tower.
For more images and poetry, have a look at my website: