Haunted
We are haunted by the brutal cost of our redemption
Images of the One
Broken for us
Flashing across our waking minds
The blood everywhere
Poured out for us
Communion is a haunting
Remember me
© Julie Clark
Waiting for Easter
All we have are words
And the grief that overwhelms us
Hope is gone
We saw with our own eyes
Our grief tells us
He is dead
Yet
We have words
We will wait
With our grief by the tomb
© Julie Clark
Backfromtheborderlands's Blog 
At this point in my life, your poetry is the only way I am connected to the “faith of my fathers”. I don’t know whether to be grateful or annoyed! Either way, it’s beautiful, personal, real. Thanks . . . I guess . . .
Just keep holding onto what is good…the rest, well, let it go, toss it out, pitch it, just “don’t throw out the baby with the bath water” as the saying goes. But get rid of the stinky bath water for sure!