Gethsemane

Gethsemane 

It's April snow on daffodils. 

Yellow stains on the white sky. 

Drops from God to salve the 

feral pain. 

I wait for tulips that are encased

in green buds.  A lot of 

energy in the making of a flower. 

It reminds me of a prayer. 

I think my Azalea has gone for

soldiers, and the lilacs wait

for me to heal.  The faces in this 

garden look to find you. 

I am all alone with my prayers, 

this station is one before the 

Crucifixion. My Garden waits 

for our reconciliation as 

snow floats on in time past 

and time future. 

Now is not our cup

of Salvation.  

Forgiveness is not

our business. 

Caroline Shank