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.
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.