Darkness at Noon

© June E M Carter

The gov-nor sits, he lifts his pen,
He sweats and drops it down again.
He starts when he hears a prayerful cry,
Then he turns to see a storm-black sky.
The gov-nor wonders, “Why no moon?
What is this darkness come at noon?”

And as he stumbles blindly to his bed,
A cruel voice taunts in the gov-nor’s head.
“Pilate,” it whispers; “You gave the nod
To a dreadful death for the Son of God.
See the clouds turn black, the Temple ruin.
Look again on the darkness come at noon.

“And when you stumble into history
And century follows century,
They’ll say of you and say it still;
He catered to the people’s will
And signed the order to ‘Crucify!’
Then he washed his hands and let God die.”

The gov-nor stands, he looks about.
He weeps and then he stumbles out
To gaze on the city dark and grim.
His own voice echoes, “No fault in him.
That’s why this night’s bereft of moon.
That’s why this darkness come at noon.”



 

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