These Resurrection Dreams

I let loose my grip, tossed off these hinder-some shoes,
And went down to sit by the riverside,
open hands to the heavens;
Bare feet digging into the earth, finding my roots.

My eyes caught the wonder, I lay my hand
over my mouth-lost in silence, I repent.
I repent while the giant mythical trees tell me
their story, stretch their limbs to the sky-
the silent prayer they are crying out.

I turned to the end of the book,
got lost in the story
that grew out in front of me.

I walk through the garden, wandering,
must we always lose these child's eyes as we grey?
Must we always cage ourselves in -
with gold and silver and comfort?
Must we become allies with erasers that clear
the danger, adventure and wonder?

Must we rationalize
the ants as they toil, the birds
as they take the air upon their wings,
their spring-song sung back, forth,
echoing in layers and harmonies,
the river, playing it's way somewhere new
with whispers to the shore,
diamonds hidden til the sun
smiles it's blazing gaze on it,
in the warmth of friends who know?

Must we rationalize?

Must we trivialize the words when spoken
out of the void of nothingness
"It is good"

Put on your eyes, oh world

Need we distract, when we can see
through the veil- life
and him?
it is the ache and the goodness that no words hold captive.

Must we really fear life and death,
all in one?
Or,
can we not learn to fear neither
And come awake, live,
in the bits and pieces scattered about
small shadows living on
of a someday whole world,

why shudder we from fear,
when death only stands a door?





re-found this poem I wrote last spring.