Poem for Good Friday
Apr. 6th, 2012 05:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tree_and_leafIn A Country Church
To one kneeling down no word came,
only the wind’s song, saddening the lips
of the grave saints, rigid in glass;
Or the dry whisper of unseen wings,
bats not angels, in the high roof.
Was he balked by silence? He kneeled long,
and saw love in a dark crown
of thorns blazing and a winter tree
golden with fruit of a man’s body.
R.S. Thomas.
To one kneeling down no word came,
only the wind’s song, saddening the lips
of the grave saints, rigid in glass;
Or the dry whisper of unseen wings,
bats not angels, in the high roof.
Was he balked by silence? He kneeled long,
and saw love in a dark crown
of thorns blazing and a winter tree
golden with fruit of a man’s body.
R.S. Thomas.