If you are familiar with the story of Easter (or the trifecta of Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and Resurrection Sunday) then you will hopefully find some meaning in this poem.
Treason - April 3, 2015
The final cost of our redemption
speaks naught of our exemption
or requirements never met
even in the sacrifice of a lifetime,
but rather waits in the silence between.
Oh, that impossible distance!--
which grows in shadowed resistance
for this one wretched day
while we are the ashen mourners
unsaved, unloved, unseen.
And we shrink like withered seasons
whose blooms gravely fade beyond reason
for even the wind has grieved,
even the earth cannot be still,
even the sun is black with treason.
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