By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall (Rated G)
Thoughts During that Famous Light Collation on Good Friday
This morning I mowed the lawn, the springtime lawn
Then messed about with flowerpots and bees
In this little safe space of happy green
A shadow of Heaven beneath wise Plato’s oak
This evening I will visit Jerusalem
And follow timidly the Stations of the Cross
Not wanting to be noticed by Romans or Greeks
(Setting aside the fact that I am a Roman)
Time stops – with faltering steps and a contrite heart
A journey into the dark, and then – waiting
Holy Saturday 2021, the 2nd Covid Year
Lent begins in winter and ends in spring
The Stations of the Cross, the self-denials
Are trivial, perhaps, but then so are we
Better that way:
The harrowing is not here
Easter Sunday 2021, the 2nd Covid Year
In some churches the organ thunders at dawn
Ours squeaks (it might be a bargain from Sears)
This does not change the truth, the awe, the Light
That shines upon the Altar this Easter day
Last year the Holy Mass was forbidden by law
An eleventh plague blighted land and air
And so for us there was no exodus
From the brick pits in which we found ourselves
And in the pews –
Empty spaces, empty hearts, absent friends
But there is the Promise, the Promise fulfilled
LogoSophia Magazine 