Here the soil is barren
here - nothing grows
but crosses
they - know not what they do
you - your forgiveness
falls as dew
nailed upon a wooden frame
twisted yet unbroken
open mounted a silent choir
understood, unspoken
never was there heard a sound
until the heavens opened
now the tide is turning
to other-wordly yearning
through the sun's eclipse seems final
surely he will rise again