By: Sharon Supriya
(The poem was written on my way back home in Train for Good Friday)
They stood still as I passed them,
They neither sighed nor guffawed
I wondered what the silence was all about
Had they forgotten their mastered art or was it a phase of bitter silence.
Did the bitter silence knock at their door with fear or disbelief or cry.
I failed to untie their mysterious misery
Just then the soft wind wrapped me with crippled smile.
I hugged her feathery body and asked, “The trees and flowers that danced and glorified with your song seems to be stricken with fear. What is that brings such gruesome silence to this place?”
“It isn’t fear”, she replied, with a soft tear that flooded my heart.
“They are grief stricken at the awe of His love. How great is our God who spread His arms of love on that hewn cross”
As I looked up to the sky, I saw His butchered body.
He hung with great pain in His eyes, but that smile on His face stroked a powerful silence on my heart.
With the rest of the world I stood gazing at His Unconditional love at the cross.
