Saturday, April 04, 2015

46. not a green hill faraway

original artwork - Keith Wallis

We sang of a green hill
in our churches
and chapels,
our four walled
comfort castles.

We sang of a faraway green hill
which was not green
but scrubby,
dusty, rocky
exposed and bleak.
If it were a colour
it would be red:
red with anger,
red with blood-lust.
Red with fear,
red with tears
red with the mist
that covers eyes.

It was not a green hill faraway
but the desolate place
in our hearts
that longs
Easter morn.

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