Happy Easter to all my readers. We celebrate the greatest miracle of our existence, a symbol of hope as we witness one of the greatest tragedies of our generation. Pick up your heart, somebody needs it now, and also tomorrow...hope never dies.
Rise from the squalor of the promise of death.
Your wrongs hold you down like ladders fallen
To the ground, broken, crying.
The stone off your back rolls to the ground;
Your shoulder speaks out-of-breath to your brain,
And mixed with stress, the message is amplified.
Let it roll to the ground, this is a new day.
"Mother, behold, I make all things new".
Mother torn trying to grip the wind on its
Way to the mountains.
How do you hold the wind? How do you hold fear?
How much pain can one mortal vessel hold
In drips of blood on stone, and gasps for
Air on wood standing in stone?
All things are new.
Behold, the rainbow
Shoots an arrow of renewal past the sunlit
Perfumed clouds. It's all so beautiful that I
forget the nails, the thorns. The rungs of
This ladder lead to a new height.
Rise from the parlor, and celebrate far away
From family and friends. The electrons will
Bring your elation all the way:
It's resurrection time.
Do this today; tomorrow we'll all be back to our
Day to day.
They were not perfect squares, you know, those hard plastic
Sticks of myriad colours that between my teeth like grit
Sent weird signals of unevenness to my infant brain.
If you take one green, then blue, red, then green again,
Addition turns into 4 unicorns you can right with an equal sign.
They aren't perfectly sinusoidal, those hard to bear curves
On my screen, with lab coat, glasses, and eagerness to serve
Me the death toll...like I should pay for a Wuhan virus.
I love when up it goes, peaks, and down comes the sinus
Like sunset announcing a new dawn or some equal sign.
Some say stop counting the dead, for dread needs a father.
So as I toss and turn, afraid the virus gets anymore fodder,
I count my blessings, like the song taught me and my
Siblings to do when you'd rather shiver, melt and die.
Naming the inanimate heals they said, you'll be fine.
So I'm counting oxygen molecules for free floating around,
I'm counting a bed shared, the hugs and smiles, sound
From little children goofing around, arguing about nothing.
I'm counting parents, siblings, forgetting squabbles frothing,
For life's a dainty petal dancing on sun-bathed silver lines
Of air, scintillating in a million diamonds of green leaves
Whistling a new tune of spring, dancing with the puffs above.
The birds flap their garments of rainbow gliding on sheaves
Out of the sky to brighten a smile I bear like finding love
In powder and smoke. Darkness is where these blessings don't shine.