The day we call Good Friday
was the worst day
of a few people’s lives.
John and his siblings
lost their eldest brother.
They trailed behind,
watched him bloom,
infancy to manhood—
Mama’s favorite.
“Why can’t you be more like Jesus!”,
their most played track.
First to rise, first to pray,
first to restore a blind man’s sight.
first to let himself be captured,
rejecting the backdoor exit,
dying like a common thief.
He turned water to wine,
when it mattered most;
yet did not spare them this pain,
when it mattered most.
When their brother died,
their sense of right
and wrong was buried
alongside his body.