In jail as bait, he hears the bailiff’s thud;
Barabbas squints to glimpse the herd outside.
Nearsightedness submerges flesh in blood,
His window’s bars a dyke against the tide.
Below, the tower door — he cannot know —
Stands open to the breeze. A fresher air
Inspires the thought of Mother’s winter row
Of wheat, his father’s servants’ buttered fare.
Unstinting in unpunished bile he bade
Good-bye and just as soon fell to the swine.
What ferocious appetites they had!
“Give us the son of Abbas!” There’s the line.
The mists divide; he sees his better half,
His older brother, Father’s fatted calf.
Doug Taylor-Weiss served many years as a Protestant minister before entering into full communion with the Catholic Church in 2016. He teaches in various capacities and, with his wife, sings in two liturgical choirs. They live in Grand Rapids.