NPM: Buried (Day 5)

A poem for Easter.

Buried - Written March 16, 2015, revised April 5, 2015

we touch solid ground
and from our feet spreads gold

the snow is made of diamonds
because we are treasure
in the aftermath
we are precious
in the alabaster canyon

and this is the message
rising from our ashen insides
we will rise again like
the icy drifts and gilded pleasures
like windy whispers
of a time we already forgot

we wandered in the wilderness
ferocious like barbarians
wild like the foxes
surviving in the abandoned places

until our eyes fall out
and shine like priceless stones
until our hearts turn cold
and are worn like polished pendants

this is the message
rising from our ashen insides
as certainly as we were buried
we will rise again