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Post by MIRIAM JACOB on Aug 16, 2009 7:00:24 GMT -5
GETHSEMANE
T he stream still shimmers,
Bubbling with blue delight,
Light of leaf and ferny-fronded
Framing the innocence
Of pure unknowing love
Creator’s love gift of a garden:
Unknowing growing things,
Beat with a pulse of joy.
The trees long days
Are numbered now but they are
Blind to the soldiered ranks of slaughter
The garden darkening as,
Stark on the blind-white skyline
They advance with screaming drills,
But waters flecked
With flickering light,
And towering lordly trees,
Not stilled, for they are deaf
To sense of dread.
But He knew: Lord of the Harvest’s
Knowing love
Seared with the shadow of the sword;
The garden darkening
Suffocating, suffering shadow
Envelopes his crouched frame.
HE bore our flesh and
Feels the fear drip sweated blood
Drained from a fevered pounding
Terror and HIS numbered days
Bought our eternal peace.
© PAULINE GRIFFITHS
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