Gethsemane

[Merrill]

There are four exits
but only one way out,
among these ancient trees
olive-strung yet arid

He is born to the world
and abandoned within it,
while the wounded heart
proffers to eternity,

and these desperate prayers
are like windswept leaves
half-seen in final twilight
within wandering pale clouds.

The distance between
Him and me, is like
the endless moment
between prayer and answer;

the distance between
soul and heaven
is the audible pause
in the poet's throat,

and the fulcrum of
devotion is a final
syllable from better
men to worse:

a fleeting blessing
of the reluctantly
anointed upon His
tortured followers,

like light morning dew
upon proud and resistant
trees whose roots hold fast
to a broken world.

 

[Leah Daniels]

Very nice

I like these parts best:

"He is born to the world
and abandoned within it,"

"a fleeting blessing
of the reluctantly
anointed upon His
tortured followers,"

like light morning dew
upon proud and resistant
trees whose roots hold fast
to a broken world."

Really beautiful writing, thank you for sharing this

 

[Leah Daniels]

There are four exits
but only one way out,
among these ancient trees
olive-strung yet arid

He is born to the world
and abandoned within it,
while the wounded heart
proffers to eternity,

and these desperate prayers
are like windswept leaves
half-seen in final twilight
within wandering pale clouds.

The distance between
Him and me, is like
the endless moment
between prayer and answer;

the distance between
soul and heaven
is the audible pause
in the poet's throat,

and the fulcrum of
devotion is a final
syllable from better
men to worse:

a fleeting blessing
of the reluctantly
anointed upon His
tortured followers,

like light morning dew
upon proud and resistant
trees whose roots hold fast
to a broken world.

Glory to God