Illustration by: Olga Savytska
On Raphael’s Agony in the Garden The hills will give us enough Space to rest, lain upon the trees Hushed and brave, our leaves, I have prayed in the hills, I have not Known the time, my hands have Felt heavy. I know where the crook Of my arm lies. Where are the sheep? Where are you? The echoes of my prayers Are also asleep. The grass above me And the sky below
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