Yom Kippur: A Poem for Good Friday

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Within that lightless vestibule
that Roman claws would raze,
See Aaron’s brood with crimson gifts
through wafting incense gaze,
To paint a throne where God unseen
beholds the fruit of veins,
And with the soap of severed life
removes his people’s stains.
‘Til comes the Priest clad but in skin,
no lamb or goat his gift,
Upon the cruel and gory throne
his offering to uplift,
To pave the way, with flesh and blood,
for all those bathed in grace,
To stand as priests within the veil,
before the Father’s face.

This poem, along with almost one hundred others, is included in my book, The Infant Priest: Hymns and Poems. To purchase your copy, simply click on this link. Thank you for your interest!

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