The wind is speaking, carrying dust,
Sketching out designs of counterpoint,To Great Mystery's romantic melody.
The Sun splashes down broad, thick beams of heat,
Which pelt His body...
Pitiful, yet embracing infinity.
Below the cross,
Some blood has mingled with sand.
Hear I not the trumpet of Gabriel?
A stirring on His praying brow,
Reveals Jesus' transcendence into the Light!
It is accomplished!
SCA Revised, January 31, 2014