The end of hope blossoms red
and pales before the greening heart,
an argument of light gives day its name —
one kiss: a desert that kindles history.
Despair and wonder sleep, breath and limb,
thorn and flesh, entwined,
against and with each other,
their flower is called Finality.
Winds from the past
have pushed it into being here.
All that you gather, Judas Tree,
I recite to myself.