One of the joys of being on retreat for Easter was having time and space to sit each day and reflect on the Easter Story. As I sat and waited on Holy Saturday I wrote this poem and took this picture to accompany it.
He’s gone,
He’s dead,
It’s all over.The trees are dark,
The future is bleak,
It’s all over.
But there is a gap in the trees,
But the birds are still singing,
Maybe, just maybe, it isn’t all over?
God, present in darkness, in death,
David Goodall, Written at St Beuno’s, Holy Saturday 2019
God, holding the world in its despair,
It’s not all over because God is present.