Going fishing

Piscatorial Haiku

Seven disciples
decided to go fishing:
found themselves a boat.

They went out at night
hoiping that the fish would come
but they caught nothing.

Standing on the shore
the stranger shouted advice:
Try the other side!

The nets are breaking;
It must be the Lord! they shout.
Peter heads ashore.

A lakeside fire,
a breakfast of bread and fish
with their risen Lord.

Jesus asks Peter:
Simon, do you love me more?
Lord, you know I do.

Simon, feed my lambs.
Twice more Jesus questions him:
How do you love me?

Eventually
even Simon must get it;
love made real by deeds.

He said, Feed my sheep,
take care of my little lambs.
It’s all about love.

 

© Ken Rookes 201

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Not unless I see.

Haiku of growing hope.

Sunday evening.
The disciples locked the doors,
fearing they were next.

The women’s stories,
which might have brought them some hope,
went disregarded.

Jesus came and stood
before them: Peace be with you!
His friends were perplexed.

He shows them his hands
to help put their minds at ease.
Yeah, right; that’ll work!

There is rejoicing,
along with bewilderment.
The stories were true‽

He sends his friends out,
breathing his Spirit, charging
them to forgive sin.

The absent Thomas,
could not believe their reports.
Not unless I see!

Seven days later,
so John tells us, Jesus came,
to meet them once more.

Here I am, Thomas!
See the nail-marks in my hands,
touch my wounded side.

Falling to his knees
Thomas cries: My Lord, my God!
Finally convinced.

You see and believe?
Blessed are those who believe
who don’t get to see!

Jesus did much more.
Were the stories written down
they would fill volumes.

 

© Ken Rookes 2019

Sunday. The first day.

Haiku for upending

Sunday. The first day.
The sun returns from beyond;
light chases darkness.

They come to the tomb,
the women, aching, faithful,
to honour their friend.

Bringing their spices
they come to prepare his corpse;
their duty of love.

The stone had been moved.
The open entrance calls them;
Come, see my surprise!

The tomb is empty,
His broken body is gone,
spirited away.

Two men, shining bright
in robes that dazzle the eyes,
come and address them.

Why look in a tomb?
The one you seek is alive!
Remember his words.

The women returned,
(there were at least five of them),
but they weren’t believed.

Peter, however,
wanted to see for himself,
and ran to the tomb.

Only the grave-clothes
were there to be seen. Peter
returned home, amazed.

A tomb that’s empty,
a man no longer present:
should we doubt or hope?

How shall we respond
to this story of wonder,
and to he who lives?

 

© Ken Rookes 2019

Into your hands

Haiku of the end.

They arrest Jesus
decide upon the verdict,
begin the trial.

Taken to Pilate,
He is accused of treason;
by his own people.

A Galilean,
you say! He’s not my problem;
take him to Herod!

Jesus the healer!
says Herod, all excited.
Show for me a sign!

He keeps them guessing,
refusing to play their game,
keeping his mouth shut.

Pilate resists them,
He has done no wrong. Flog him,
then we’ll let him go.

The crowd shout him down.
Pilate, lacking conviction,
lets Barabbas go.

Beaten and broken
Jesus staggers ‘neath his cross.
The Cyrene bears it.

The inscription reads
This is the king of the Jews.
A king for us all.

They are mocking him:
If you are king, save yourself!
The soldiers join in.

Two others also,
criminals, guilty as charged,
are hanged there with him.

The one also mocks.
The other entreats: Jesus,
do not forget me.

At three he cries out,
Father. I am in your hands!
and draws his last breath.

The crowd return home,
beating their breasts, questioning,
What is it we’ve done?

 

© Ken Rookes 2019

Riding a donkey

Haiku for an uncertain entrance.

Riding a donkey
defiantly confronting;
they do not like it.

Cry out with the throng,
make with your loud hosannas.
Return in five days.

Here he comes! Jesus
with his words of costly love;
we do not want them.

Beware, you who rule,
serving powerful interests:
Jesus is coming!

© Ken Rookes 2019

Bethany friends

Haiku of love

His Bethany friends
make him most welcome; again.
Jesus is grateful.

Brother Lazarus
reclines at table with him
Martha is serving.

Mary! Ah, Mary.
What are you about to do
to demonstrate love?

Mary comes, bringing
a pound of costly perfume;
pours it on his feet.

The fragrance lingers,
along with indignation:
What outrageous waste!

Such extravagance
and squander! T’was better sold
and spent on the poor.

Returning her love,
Jesus speaks to defend her;
She has done no wrong!

This beautiful gift,
images her love for me;
soon I will be gone.

The poor will remain
to provide new occasions
to demonstrate love.

Gather what remains,
save it for my burial;
it comes soon enough.

 

© Ken Rookes 2019