Gethsemane

*

Anguished soul
bent low
and bare
with the crushing weight of
The End

my view of Beginning
(or anything Beyond)
obscured by this cross
which is,
of course,
a door,
as crosses always are

but now,
for now,
tears turn myopic
all vision of morning

and with You

I weep

in Gethsemane

^*