Every year

The memory comes

Of bloodshed, death and rebirth

The long drive from here to there

Where eyes bore warnings for untold miles of required silence against protest, planked boards and fallen angels who tromped alongside him as he walked towards predestined ruin

She spewed truth like afterbirth

From his speared side

Man alive! Unearthly pain crying our guts out to god for mercy

Make it stop

Make it start, begin again

Gasping for breath just to speak 

Beside the desperate mutterings of murderers and kin

To refuse him on Easter Sunday

The beginning of the end

As for my savior 

Dying on across the street

The place where sin and savior meat

Final bites of lamb and mint

While they watched her barely take to be less and less of herself

A pronged elbow 

A jutted hip slipping from its hinges 

Unglued, ungripped

Feet gargantuan in proportion to head of state and maimed

The temple shook earth cracked open to reveal the light of an easy unburdening yoke

A cloud of blinding silence fell

Giving way to salt and light

The truth comes in the mourning

The way to Love

Forever and ever xo

The prompt was Eggs for D’verse poets. This poem has been waiting to be written for a long time. Hell on earth came to an end on Easter, for me, for us. Amen

Thanks for the invitation. 

The painting is India ink on paper; Home Body 


12 thoughts on “Perennial Passion

  1. Dear God is this good. I read Mother Mary’s suffering entwined with her Son’s, and the allusions to the Seder meal as the Son of God makes his own exodus from bondage to freedom, death to rebirth, are astounding. I can taste the salt and light, and I’m so grateful.

    Liked by 1 person

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