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crown of thorns....

“A hawthorn tree stands alone in a ploughed field
  the furrows embrace her in her isolation
She sees the world in 360 degrees..........
     above..........
                   below
  all wisdom is hers
        with her feet in the earth
                       and her fingers in the air
                             she feels my footsteps passing by
                             the clouds stand still.....................
                 ...........while the moon scurries by
                she feels my isolation as I wonder why?
               am I drawn to her presence
                        to feel her thorns pierce my wrist
                                                  Do I hear a hiss?
                                           the memory persists
                                    angels at her feet
                   and blood on her lips
 I wince and take a sip
                my blood is in her berries
                      she is my crown of thorns
                         as a lamb to the slaughter....
                            ........my locks are shorn
 they tangle in her branches
           and I am reborn
                                     I stand alone in a ploughed field
                                    the furrows of her brow
                                    embrace me
                                    in my isolation

Other works by John Soltys...



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