Thursday, April 13, 2006

One Hundred Word Poem For Good Friday


A fragile cry
struggles free
into the parched night.

Then silence
except the low drone
of the wind
through bare winter branches.

Until the cry rises again
splits open the darkness
with a long low moan
strong and insistent,
falls to hard wrenched sobs
then to sudden silence.



Now raw and wild,
gouged out of fractured breath.
Throat muscle and tongue
sculpt air
to a single word
that hangs trapped
in cold moonlight.

In the darkness
I imagine
a naked thing
cowering in the dust
red faced
twisted limbs
blood stained,
torn bandages
searching the darkness.

(c) David Loffman

The poem is inspired by different sources. The most important one being Prayer of the Heart a piece of music by John Tavener - which I comment upon in an earlier post.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

alas! not enough words in the world to soothe its' pain
balm for gilead

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