In 1992 we traveled to Israel via Rome. I wrote this some time later and edited it in 2005
Standing in Skull quarry
There’s a bus depot Lord, where your cross once stood,
The whole area is commercialized, but I guess you knew it would,
For we walked the via Dolorossa and saw the souvenirs,
The Baby in the cradle, and the soldiers with their spears,
The man they sell upon the cross we know Lord it’s not you,
The sellers didn’t realise that we daily talk with you.
All the merchants said that they were best and cheapest we could buy,
All carved from wood made from your cross, oh why Lord do they lie?
When challenged then they answer,”Well a tree just like the cross,”
“I’ve got to make lots of money, and I have to please my boss.”
So we walked the via Dolorossa with the other tourist groups,
While the young men with their trolleys raced down the narrow streets,
Then we left the city proper, through a crowded door, where near
Some soldiers stood with guns in hand, instead of spear,
We raced across a busy road our lives placed in your hands,
Toward a garden tomb hidden, in the quarry rocks, we stand,
We tried to hear the silence, but it’s drowned out by the noise
The people and the bus horns, the hawkers with their wares.
So we stand by noise surrounded, but we finally hear your peace
It’s in our hearts we’ve given you to never leave,
For suddenly we realise, it doesn’t matter whether
Your cross stood on a hill of green or in the quarry rubble,
But it’s good that we can be here, we can see the skull and tomb,
The wine press in the garden, but we know that very soon
We will have to leave this place, and continue on our tour,
But for now we pray “Dear Lord, bless the curious who come,
Let them know the truth of the day you died for them,
But rose again from out the tomb just like the one they see,
For Lord we know you use this place, now I pray dear Lord use me.”
Heather Denholm
16th Sept. 2005
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