Thorns
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Thorns
The hour is five.
An early stroll
With subdued light
And breakfast goal
To chat and pray
With faithful friend
As sunlight rays
They stretch and bend
Relentless thoughts
Of who we are
Just travellers
Both near and far
We pray and share
As all around
Enlightenment
Of solid ground
But something strange
A fleeting glance
A momentary
Holy dance
Allows my eyes
To capture this
Reflected in
The water's bliss.
No one garment
Ever said
As much upon
A person's head
Of royalty
And suffering
This cruel crown
Of offering
A sacrifice
So we could be
Completely human,
Holy, free.
Jinjagoliath
18th September 2021
Copyright © Christopher Grieves | Year Posted 2021
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