Gethsemane Night

Gethsemane Night

Gnarled olive branches
frame a face streaked with tears,
the agony of human fear.

Fragrant orchard blossoms
shadow a trio of sleeping men,
no watch kept by trusted friends.

The moonlit garden hillside
erupts with clamor, disciples’ dismay
planted, the kiss of death betrays.

By Darlene Moore Berg

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