Breeze of Galilee

by Heather Facer Heath

This land is scarred with His memory,

Touched by His life,

telling of blue night with stars

near to barren hillside where

sheep gather and

foreign tongues tell softly

His coming.

Hearts learn rhythm of Galilee’s shore,

Waves coming, rolling, then turning back like

Rustling crowds moving through ancient markets,

Almost tasting smells of wood near

Carpenter’s shop—shavings fall in piles,

Rough bark and white wood

gnarling, twisting agony in a garden

scarred by Him—born in a stable.

This land heard, and remembers, and

Aches for Him.

The wind tells His story.

Art by Hinarera Hunt