she cries in all her glory
as sunset glides through golds and pinks
leaving purple haze and peace.
“I’m here” - a whisper
her voice barely dusting the still lake.
through artists, poets and kind deeds
of broken humanity.
Hear her voice, or his,
through enduring love
and sacrifices, great and small.
She calls us to He who made it all.
who painted the greatest beauty
in the ugly-skull-place
Blood dripping down roughly hewn wood.
Hatred unable to stifle Love
pouring from the broken body,
the ultimate sacrifice
given to draw us into the eternal dance
in divine union
past visible horizons.
Take the outstretched, scarred hand
and join the dance
and the kingdom, where unending beauty dwells.