David W. Parsley Posted June 1, 2013 Share Posted June 1, 2013 Golgotha . Spikes protrude like black horns from the wounded palms. He is naked and dumb, strung on the slivered beams above earth he may not touch. . Ankle deep the faces ripple to his horizon. Essence of sweat and vinegar floats above boisterous wagers and gossip spreading quiet as shadow touches the sea of them. . Darkness climbs the milk-white body of God with clouds ascendant the face of heaven, breath rising pitch by pitch into cries, wind pushed like an army of lightning back to the city. . It blows through gates and courtyards spilling shewbread beneath the pitch and snap of curtains surrounding the Holy Place, tearing like a withered scroll the hallowed veil. . And the eyes of saints around Jerusalem come open in their graves. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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