It is National Poetry Month, so I thought I would explore what a follower of Jesus might feel on that day before the first Easter. It is done in the style of a villanelle.

Now begins the dreaded long wait
Wobbly my body starts to sway
Staring in angst at the locked gate

I try to be strong in this state
My trembling does my fear betray
Now begins the dreaded long wait

The guilt holds, it does not abate
My failures, against me, inveigh
Staring in angst at the locked gate