I wrote the first version of this poem three years ago. This morning, however, I revised it to half its former length. I seem to be writing in fewer and fewer words, recently. My Christmas poem this year lasted for all of three lines. This revised poem has six.
More importantly, I have changed the point of view in the poem–instead of being the excuse given by Peter, James, and John, it is now written as though Jesus of Nazareth were remembering that night.
Later Thursday Night
They, being asleep, could not know
how I suffered, kneeling in the garden
not far from where they slept, a stone’s throw.
Could you not wait one hour with me?
This is still the question, isn’t it?
in many a Gethsemane.