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In the garden
In the half light
shade nor shadow
yet distinguished.
Expectations come
of a dawning; for all
in that moment to be
well before sleep has
properly passed. The
beauty of that fragile
garden now all but
out of reach save for
a glimpse of light
between trees in
muffled footsteps in the
stillness of the morning
A softening of breath gives
credence to all that exists
Now the darkness,
watch and pray.
Prayer turns to sleep
to prayer to sleep again.
A moment away in another garden,
that this cup might pass,
might there yet be another way?
Knowing how reconciliation would come:
Piercing the night betrayals
trampled underfoot.
Soldiers, torches,
swords, clubs,
accusations.
Flee away
Beauty and fragility once
honoured in the garden
broken now.
Anxious silence.
Anticipation closes in.
The stillness of daybreak;
sunset almost, a last glimpse
of reconciling light.
Now is the aftermath
of wood and stone;
by
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