April 5, 2026
Hot cross buns on Friday,
hiding eggs on Sunday,
sugar-fuelled chaos
and tinfoil aftermath.
April 5, 2026
April 20, 2025
One late afternoon,
with crucifixion complete,
body taken down
for friends to collect;
Women washed, anointed, wrapped
him in a white cloth,
April 18, 2025
Jerusalem lounged luminescent below me, sprawling vision glowing orange, red, and gold in a setting sun. Tranquil, peaceful, oblivious.
March 29, 2024
I stopped, took a deep breath, and scrambled up to the brow of the hill where I saw a large crowd gathered at the foot of one of the trees. This tree had been chopped into two pieces, with one nailed to the other, forming a crude cross.