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Repetition


Not in an ancient saga

But on Galilee's warm hills

Did I see the spring green

Jesus' thorn crown.

A lonely shrub insignificant and not high..

Spreading countless claws

Like a bird of prey

Under its tender leaves...

Ready to twist again

And perch furiously on the forehead

Of a new prophet...

Yes, from such twigs was woven

The thorny halo of the martyr,

Set off to suffer alone

The sins of the huge world...

Spring again is coming -

Festive bells will revive

The grey day

Of Christ's resurrection.

But I see -

The thorn-crown

Along the road to Golgotha

Has resurrected too.

 

March, 1995

Galilee Lake

 


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