Jonathan Beale- Two Poems

Lent Days

Easter people trod first

Upon that shadowed day

The still wind

Kissed their cheek

And the days drew in

The sand between toes

And dust between fingers

The tabernacles stayed

The portent to be flayed

The days started to grow

Gethsemane became the monument

14 stations and the rise

Here there is no place for dust

Here is where life’s a must

Until Golgotha was found

The sun rose – life rose

The birth of the Easter people

The concerto rung

Rebirth was sung

The Lenten days bore The Easter People

In The Scarcity

Remnants - lay scattered

Yet almost placed by an unseeing hand.

With the look of garage, shed, or workshop

Things lay strewn - yet in some

Perfect sequence.

The deep alter wine among

The missals – words compressed

And as linear as a lifetime –

Here the base celebrant

Lies in wait.

They come along

As the old Greek

Philosophers knew

Tiny injections lead to

Great ravines

Spaces, places to think –

To breathe - the reflection

Between sky and river

Draws and draws

And expectation of the world

To be revealed

From within the chalice

When it was there

All along.