Et hora nona exclamavit Iesus voce magna dicens Heloi Heloi lama sabacthani…?
It was dark – and he called upon the Sun.
At least, that’s how we understood his cry.
As the gods go, the Sun’s a mighty one
To call upon. His fierce and fiery eye
Sees through the mists and shadows that we try
To hide our vile and shameful thoughts behind.
Only a brave man lets the Sun’s name fly
When dying is the task he’s been assigned.
We bless you, Jew, although you’ve been defined
To us as rabble-rouser, sorcerer,
And madman. Though triumphant Death has dined
On you, we pray the Sun at last will stir
On your behalf – because you called his name.
May the Sun raise you up – and spread your fame.
(First appeared in Trinacria #11, Spring 2014, and nominated for a Pushcart Prize.)