Easter

Here is a poem I wrote on Easter weekend. I am not a Christian but somehow the Easter holiday speaks to me and moves me very deeply. On Easter Sunday, my daughter and I rode our bikes out to Spring Lake Park Children's Memorial Grove to find that Katie's memorial stone had finally arrived. We sat with Katie's stone for a long time, my daughter decorating it with tiny yellow flowers, both of us studying the surrounding stones that honored other children who had died. There were children of all ages. A stone remembering all the children that had died in Hurricane Katrina. A stone for the little boy who recently was killed by a hit and run driver. Stones for babies; there was one for our dear friends' stillborn son. Stones for toddlers. Stones for teenagers. My daughter spotted a stone that said "beloved father and husband" and wondered: "I thought this was for children?" I told her this: "Everybody is somebody's child!" 

So Easter is about resurrection, rebirth, renewal. The Pagan bunnies and eggs celebrating boisterous spring procreation, nature kicking into gear again after the dead of winter; and the Christian promise of Rising Up from the depth of despair and loss.

Here is my poem:

Rising
From dust and darkness
a mouthful of rubble
breathing splinters of light

Falling
Through the thorns
a thicket of birds
gathering upon your eyelids

Rising again
birds cascading
into a sky
the color of paper
and quicksilver

Mouth open
breathing liquid clouds
in small, heavy drops
translucent
like the blood of angels


Later on Easter Sunday we listened to Patty Smith's "Easter" ( a must!) and then had an Easter egg hunt in our backyard with our beloved extended family. Our kids ate chocolate bunnies and played basketball until little Gracie fell down one too many times and it was time to go home. The air was mild and fragrant even after dark. Our children ran and laughed and cried and fell asleep. Spring had arrived.