Wednesday, 28 April 2021

Kjell Espmark: 'Mitt i livet denna söndag'


In the midst of life this Sunday:

weightless snow, a silent sermon.

The naked tree gleams with bullfinches.

The only sound existing in the world

is the rustling of pecked-out seeds

plummeting down through the branches.

Today’s text is red smudges

brighter that the blood of Christ

and seed-husks falling slowly, slowly.

Death slows down its steps.

No murmuring yet among the clouds.


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