At The “Last Supper”

At the “Last Supper” an apostle stated thinking of his girl.
He saw her walking in Isaiah’s paradise.
“But where will I be?” he wondered to himself,
As he drank the wine and cried.

At the “Last Supper” an apostle started thinking of home.
He saw it, in flower, from a high mountain.
But how did he get there he wondered to himself,
As he drank the wine and fell dreamily quiet.

At the “Last Supper” an apostle started watching the sunset.
He saw it emptying through a window.
Then he seemed to forget what city he was in,
As he drank the wine and heard a bird singing.

At the “Last Supper” an apostle thought of his fishing boat.
He saw it floating in the darkest of all lakes
“But who is on board to sail it?” he thought.
As he sipped the wine his hands wanted rudders.

At the “Last Supper” an apostle thought of his children.
He saw them growing up in a land far away.
Will they ever know how much I love them?
And he sipped the wine and leaned against another.

At the “Last Supper” an apostle thought of his mother.
He remembered how she had grown into an old woman.
He got up and walked to the window
Sipping wine and watching the passers-by

At the “Last Supper” an apostle thought of the soldiers.
He felt disgust that the world could be so violent.
He hoped he would never be arrested.
As he sipped the wine and stared into space.

At the “Last Supper” an apostle had a song in his head,
It was a song that was as old as Moses,
There was a line he always thought beautiful,
As he sipped the wine he wanted to start dancing.

At the “last Supper” an apostle just sat staring,
Staring at the face of Jesus.
Looking on with awesome fascination,
As he sipped the wine in quiet contemplation.

At the “Last Supper” an apostle was wondering;
He was wondering what had happened to the collection
He wondered who was the greatest amongst them,
As he sipped the wine he began feeling depressed

At the “Last Supper” an apostle could not stop thinking
About his death and felt frozen with apprehension.
He wondered how Jesus could be so composed,
As he sipped the wine he stared at the water-bowl.

At the “Last Supper” an apostle started thinking
About the games they played as children;
He reminisced about it with a colleague
Then he sipped the wine as a door was closing.

Then Jesus walked over to the window,
He stared down at the street with eyes painful
At the apostle hurrying in the darkness,
Then at the wine spilled out across the table.

March 27 1997

Author: blackbird212012

I am interested in multimedia work: songwriting, art, and creative writing. I have been involved also in theatre and music performances.

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