by Olivia Arieti

The olive branches
Began whispering
Early that morning,
The supper already
Belonged to the past
Like the flogging
And the kiss,
The sky
Had freed itself
Of the stormy clouds
Overshadowing the hill
And tears had turned dew.
As the sun warmed up
All hearts with faith,
Bells of Resurrection
Announced the beauty
Of sacrifice.

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Olivia Arieti, with a degree from the University of Pisa, lives in Italy with her family. She is a published playwright and also writes poems and short stories. Her poems appeared in Women In Judaism, The Wanderlust Review, Poetica Magazine, Eye On Life, VWA: Poems For Haiti, The Harsh And The Heart Anthology, The Expeditioner’s Guide To The World, Bridging the Cultural Divide Anthology, Feile-Festa, Haiku Of The Dead, Obama-Mentum Anthology, The Seasons, Trouvaille Review, and Poetica Clarendon House Books.