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A Love Hung Quiet
The hill was bare, the sky undone,
The veil was torn without a sound.
Red streaked the wood, the earth stood still,
And love hung quiet, pierced and crowned.
But dawn returned in linen white,
A folded cloth, an open stone.
No trumpet called, just wind and light,
And grace that walked the garden home.
Now light outlives the longest night,
And hope is etched in every sky.
The hands once bound now hold the stars
And mercy reigns, and cannot die.
Copyright ©
Oriana Lezama
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