Saturday, August 10, 2019

GOOD FRIDAY NIGHT



GOOD FRIDAY NIGHT

The wild mob was quieter
than this tomb crying: “Death”,
their angry shouting hurt His mother
less than Mary’s sobbing.

She cannot leave Him to this strident silence:
who cherished songs at evening,
loved best of all the music of her voice.
That three days’ wait will bring
angelic choirs
is only prophecy.
Tonight her Little One
sleeps here alone.

Sister M Julian RSM
In: The Refuge of Beauty.  1954
48

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