And still they stand

And still they stand

And still they stand upon the hill
upward gazing wondering still
or worse than that they mock His pain
who stand and share
our landscape.
 
We, too, wretched stand and wonder,
when the mocking voices thunder,
when our eyes though filled with tears
still stand and share
our landscape.
 
So Easter’s long and ancient days
assault the world in wounded ways
and fills them with relentless fears
who stand and share
our landscape.
 
Then resurrection brings its light
exposing endless days of night
as marauding thieves who run away
and do not  share
our landscape.
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