we'd grown up together
part of the crowd, for sure
but always as brothers
together in all that we did
inseparable in adventures
mischief and trouble
or stretched out in the sun
dancing in the rain
proud of our good looks
our strength and breeding
a class act definitely

and now separated out
chosen, but for what
primped and preened
looking our finest
strutting our stuff
couldn't be faulted
ushered in, space made
facing the crowds
silence falls, expectant
a choice is made
divided, first and last

words said, the high priest
in all his robes and finery
a prayer, and hands are laid
sins recited, not mine, theirs
but now my problem
for I'm cast out, driven
into the desert to live, to die
some kind of scapegoat
I look back to my brother
taken further in, higher up
a dagger falls on him, in me

year by year, century by century
we are chosen, unblemished
always an exquisite pair
the finest in all the herds
only the best for the temple
the desert and the altar
bearing the people's sins
though letting us pair of goats
carry the can is a bit twisted
responsibility avoidance I'd say
but this year its different

not goats but a man
and not just any man
this one's somehow special
the high priest said so
"it's better for you to have
one man die for the people
than the whole nation perish"
so they prepared themselves
lined up false witnesses
recruited a betrayer
and readied the altar


Tuesday of the Fifth Week of Lent
8th April 2025
following  John 11.50