Good Friday coming up: we have to get by and through it to get to Easter Sunday, through pain and grief before we get to a brilliant sunrise and joy …
PROCLAMATION
this is the day
God made at midnight
unwound minute by minute 
through darkness past dawn
to this grieving hour
this is the day
to be unloosed
walked through
inhaled eaten
touched by moving fingers
this is the day
threaded on fine needles
spun by whirling feet
over a bridge’s arc
this is the day
to give the poor
bread on a table
under a tiled roof
where they will dwell
until suns fill the sky
A Bedroom of Searchlights’: poetry. This collection draws a picture of the poet’s divorced mother, an artist with two children, who struggled with poverty, war, and the realities of daily life, yet still found beauty and comfort in her garden, and her art.
We both know Good Friday does not come only once a year, but we also know that the sun will reappear and so will the Spring.sky. and hopes.