Apr 18 | Yeshua, Under Blossoms (Poem)
there were no hydrangeas in the garden
outside the walls of Old Jerusalem
but had there been
they may have covered him
could we have buried him in blossoms
and kept him
from their spears?
would those branches weave themselves into knots
airful shields
to cover his head
sweet coffee skin
not prophet, nor patriarch
man
that i love and have loved
or would all attempts unravel
branches curl open
reveal his face
unafraid
like marble
is this my yeshua
or david?
before these hired hatefuls
false goliaths
white blossoms
keep watch over silence
would they burn away
in his sudden blaze
-Clarity