Saturday, March 26, 2016

Pieces of My Soul

A Poem for Holy Saturday

Doubt and belief
The two are one today,
And I feel the cold and barren branches
As pieces of my soul, my past, my future.

Some color I have never seen,
Some spice I have never tasted
Stirs in the marrow of this tree,
I wonder, I hope, I believe this is so.

O tree on which Love suffers
And dies, keep watch with me tonight
And reconcile all that is barren in me,
And all that is alive, and all that is.