Sunday, May 2, 2010

Jesus…
that wooden cross
nails, pain and tears
time and again
carry in your heart as burden
for those ones- your creations.
Near the lighthouse
Prayers, in one song-my cross
I carry in my hands
See nails, sharp edges
narratives..
hurt lockers, broken images
stage plays…
and in margin pages
minds undo all in one cross
where hearts frozen
time dead..
and in last word
Images broken on one ridge
like tiny glass cuts of a mirror..
In extreme frontiers...
Jesus.. you suffer
for your own creative errors….
and on the day of resurrection
forgive those ones
your creations.. errors....
speech, silence...

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