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;