The pain of finding my Lord not there
The sorrow of seeing his body hung amidst the fathers night air
To serve so long! To follow, believe, to Trust.
For what?
To see his body bloodied and beaten?
to find his grave robbed and barren?
My Lord, I followed! I trusted!

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The glassy sea is slippery; the dirt road is full of grit.
Everywhere I look is eerie; maybe I’d better just sit.

I got up and shut my eyes, dared to cross the sea
only to find midst groans and sighs, heartbreak as reality.

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How a pebble could appear a stone
strong enough to build a life upon

if but could be seen from atom view.

How a breeze could hoist the slivered moon
rocking high above the stagnant world

if but could be combing cilia through.

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