Here the soil is barren
Here, nothing grows but crosses

They know not what they do
You – your forgiveness falls as dew…

Nailed upon a wooden frame
Twisted yet unbroken
Open mouthed, a silent choir:
Understood, unspoken
Never was there heard a sound
Until the heavens opened

Now the tide is turning
To other-wordly yearning
Through the sun’s eclipse seems final
Surely he will rise again…