Tag Archives: Easter

Morning, at a Tomb

About the woman morning spread its wings, a gentle dove of rose-golden light, the fluttering of its wings a patient breeze. The earth was quiet, secret, holding back the clatter of a waking world. She wept. She wept, while gentle … Continue reading

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The Forsaken

I wrote this poem for Good Friday several years ago, but didn’t manage to get it uploaded to the website. I often think about what if felt like for the Disciples for that period between the Crucifixion and the Resurrection. … Continue reading

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