Sunday, April 20, 2014

First Cup: Easter 2014


A Song in Two Parts

Part 1: “Behind locked doors for fear…”

It was a day like any other day:
The sun rose; the sky turned blue and
The day hot. What little breeze there was
Was too little, not enough. Except:
He was gone. A great void opened up
Underneath and within and there were
No longer words to speak. The one
So at the heart of their lives, the one around
Whom all they did and thought and said
Revolved was dead and buried.
Their center gone. It was
A day like any other but a day so dark and
Empty that it was a day unlike any day.
No one noticed that the sun rose:
Their darkness profound. All his words
Forgotten. No one noticed the risen sun,
The blue sky or the heat for all had gone
Dark and cold. No one noticed the breeze
So adrift were they in the desert of their loss.


Part 2: “Two of them were on their way….”

It was a day like any other day:
The sun rose; the sky turned blue and
The day hot. What little breeze there was
Was too little, not enough. Except:
He walked along side them, although
So lost in their loss they did not see.
They found words for their pain; they
Found words for the void that encompassed
Their profoundly shifting ground. They were
Headed out, away, uncertain.
It was a day like any other day:
The sun rose; the sky turned blue and
The day hot. What little breeze there was
Was too little, not enough. Except: there
He was, breaking bread, opening eyes.

—Easter 2014, amk

Friday, April 18, 2014

First Cup: Poetry Friday

GOOD FRIDAY 2014

Stunted. Branches gnarled
like an old man’s arthritic fingers.
Exposed to gorge winds. Dead.
It sounds dead: Dried needles rasp
against each other.

Yet, at the tips: green.

—amk, 2014