Today I deviated from the given prompt (a triolet, which I will revisit another day). In honor of the Easter holiday, I have attempted a poem with chiasmus.
A guiltless man, as Pilate proclaimed
Surrendered to mobs who insist He be slain
This that all scripture might soon be fulfilled
Doing always and only as His Father willed
Hands and feet pierced, on a cross he was lifted
The duties of sonship to his beloved John shifted
He gave up the ghost of His own volition
One final act of contrite submission
A garden tomb, three days hence, is deserted
Two faithful Marys now quite disconcerted
As angels announce o’er His supposed prison
“He is not here…for He is risen.”
He was first of all—both women and men
whom scriptures teach will receive breath again
The separation of death no less bitter to grieve
Hope lies in the promise of eventual reprieve
The gift of a perfect, infinite sacrifice
Mercy’s wondrous response to Justice’s price
That I might be saved from my own offenses
Incomprehensibly rescued by Love’s consequences