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by Konza Catholic -


Old olive trees curl and bend their trunks 
dangling their silver greens     while 

Bellflowers and Jerusalem Sage nip the nose
of faraway travels and friars      
their green stems

now infused with solitude taught by their Rabbi
long ago in private   Imagine the stars now or

no stars   how dim the light grew     how night
surrounded the Lord  His sighs    His trembles

and only the little olive trees stand awake  
listening in an old tongue     His surrender

in preparation for the irruption of the divine   
and yet     His sufferings go unseen by sleepy friends      

who fail even without knowing    that a simple
request wounded trust     And now the darkness

exists in variations   more familiar than trusting  
all green things will bloom again    in spring  


Mawi Sonna is a graduate student in English Literature and Creative Writing. She is enchanted by the crucifix, poetry, tiktok, and supermarket flowers. After various encounters with Catholicism, she cannot wait to enter the Church in April, but is currently savoring the journey home.

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