She sat in the corner
eyes dry, there are no more tears
her heart ached for her baby boy
the world so bright now dark
“my baby, my son”
“A sword will pierce
your soul,” he said
he came to die they said
but, . . . .
I carried him under my heart
I cradled him in my arms
he was my son, my first born
~Ruth Jewell, ©April
20, 2019
You call this Friday good
but today the Good died
all love hung on a cross
the sky cried
the earth broke it’s heart
the darkness of the soul covered the earth
We hide behind locked
doors
grief grips our hearts
fear takes our minds
we wait for the knock
we wait to be dragged to our own cross
we wait, . . . we wait
~ Ruth Jewell, ©April 19, 2019
A Quiet Walk 