Saturday, March 30, 2013

Poem: Holy Saturday


Wrested again
from safe, familiar moorings
Abandoned
on a sea of darkness
Alone
no lights, no guiding star, no landmarks
Idled
by nothingness
Numbed
by the chilling spectre
of yesterday’s murderous violence
Incapacitated
by hopelessness and despair
No breezes even
to fair weather us
beyond defeat and death
All night long
and
All day long
Saddened
like wind bereft sails
Motionless
Upon
a silent sea
O Father
when will be our anchoring?
when our harbouring
in Your light and life?

Brendan J. Kelly, S.J. (Australia)

2 comments:

  1. This profound poem reflects so accurately my feelings of sadness and despair on Good Friday which cling to me because it is still the morning of Holy Saturday. How despairing must Jesus' friends have felt when we know the next day will bring joy and yet we feel so incredibly sad.

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    1. This is from a friend of mine in Australia. He is an incredbily gracious and deeply spiritual man.

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