The National Catholic Review

Will no one wake and watch this night with me?
—Not one. All scattered on the moon-blanched soil,
disciples still as stones in deepest sleep,
fleeing his face and rush of sacrifice:
in this harsh garden, flint-heart of the world
fallen on evil days and evil ways—
Gethsemane, where the olive’s pressed to oil,
even as he, crushed by Almighty God,
cries out, O Lord, let pass this bitter cup...
kneeling in anguish, dying drop by drop.

Richard O’Connell is the editor and publisher of Atlantis Editions. His most recent poetry collections are Dawn Crossing and Waiting for the Terrorists.

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