Holy Week on Holiday
Here in this quiet space, the sea sounds ease:
its restless growl now soothes like curled cat’s purr.
The surges striking rocks here calm and please
with soft repeated strokes like smoothing fur;
yet walking on the shore in wind like knives
I felt the power in every foaming curl.
Spray bursts and falls; the sculpted rock survives
until it’s undermined by water’s swirl.
This Holy Week, my part is set aside –
no marathon of services to face.
No words of mine need show the mounting tide
of force abusing sacrificial grace.
Yet cross and empty tomb will have their say;
their muted message still shifts stones away.
Barbara Messner 14/04/2022
Like this:
Like Loading...
Related
Barb, poet priest 
This is so very perfect for me. Even though I have been “retired” 6 years, I’ve worked in churches as a bridge interim constantly since that time and this Holy Week I think is the first not there and these words mean so very much to me.
LikeLike
How strange and meaningful to share this poignant connection with you. It assuages the loneliness I felt this week, and reassures me that that though something intense is lost, there is an important continuity, but also a shared potential for newness, as yet only beginning to be discerned.
LikeLike