There’s a statue of JesusOn a monastery knollIn the hills of KentuckyAll quiet and coldHe’s kneeling in the gardenAs silent as a stoneAll his friends are sleepingAnd He’s weeping all aloneAnd the man of all sorrowsHe never forgotWhat sorrow is carriedBy the hearts that he boughtSo when the questions dissolveInto the silence of GodThe aching Read.