Sunday, October 27, 2013



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


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