Why so glum, Judas, I presume?
Sitting at the table, such a lonely countenance
You have only to lift your eyes
to your friend, breaking bread with you;
open your eyes to the very bread of life.
Why so glum, Judas, I wonder?
So near to love, yet with a pout and scowl
You have only to open your ears
to your name on your creator’s tongue;
open your heart to a glimpse of salvation.
Why so glum, Judas, I imagine?
Slumped away from all your friends
You have only to turn
to feel the dawn breaking upon you;
gaze on the light of the world.
Why so glum, Judas, I pray?
Not alone, yet held held in your hands
you have only to bear witness
to this miracle of thanksgiving;
give yourself, broken, to the breaking one.
Why so glum, Judas?
You have only, but you will not.