Sacrifice............
BACK TO LENT TO EASTER
IT was just yesterday
when the sun rose
on the memory of things
broken, trashed
and carried away,
and I had to ask
if I could still love
what couldn't last.
if there was
something other than forgetfulness
for devasting loss.
IF there was someone who could save
my heart from fraud.

And I remembered the Man
who loved to the point of absurdity;
Whose side held a lance
till all the blood and water
that waited let go

Real love has hung and died,
and must be carried
with panting and heavy sighs
to a cold place
where stone walls
reinforce the definitiveness
of the end.

But the true nature
of love
is human
so it waits,
and divine,
so it rises
and lives again.

Let nothing
dam the flow of breaking Love.

Rita A Simmonds.
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