Silence Before Dawn

Good Friday tells the truth.
We see ourselves here —betrayer, defender, bystander, cynic.
We see how far we fall.
And we see how far God will go.
Jesus stands. Tearful. Steady.
Peace is taking root in wounded ground.

This is not yet Easter. The tomb waits.
The silence of Saturday stretches long.
But something has already begun.
The Heather grows.
Water flows.
Grace remains.

Poem – High Waving Heather, Emily Brontë

High waving heather, ‘neath stormy blasts bending,
Midnight and moonlight and bright shining stars;
Darkness and glory rejoicingly blending,
Earth rising to heaven and heaven descending,
Our spirit away from its drear dungeon sending,
Bursting the fetters and breaking the bars.

All down the mountain sides, wild forest lending
One mighty voice to the life-giving wind;
Rivers their banks in the jubilee rending,
Fast through the valleys a reckless course wending,
Wider and deeper their waters extending,
Leaving a desolate desert behind.

Shining and lowering and swelling and dying,
Changing for ever from midnight to noon;
Roaring like thunder, like soft music sighing,
Shadows on shadows advancing and flying,
Lightning-bright flashes the deep gloom defying,
Coming as swiftly and fading as soon.

Leave this place quietly.
Carry honesty. Carry humility.
Carry beauty. Carry courage.
The dawn will come.

Go in quiet courage.
May the peace of Christ
take root in you,
flow through you,
and grow beyond you.

Some material taken from and adapted: Rev. Ann Lyter “Tell Me Something Good” by A Sanctified Ar