NPM Day 16 {Hours in Eternity}

A poem for Easter. A break from the norm with some simple rhyming, and also a break from the norm because I try not to do holiday poems but whatever. I feel what I feel. I do what I want.

Hours in Eternity
April 16, 2017

Darkness willows down
and settles itself
like a cape of cloud
unsettling all else.
The sycamore tree
where you redeemed
a man shrouded
by his greed
trembles and fades
in shadows now
as thunder breaks
the sky aloud.

You are the one
we've waited for
to fight the darkness
and win the war.
And long ago
when you lived
among the dust
only to give
away your life
we couldn't know
what waiting still
you would bestow.

This blackest night
after death's display
calmed the hate
once set ablaze.
Your followers
fell in despair
believing you had
abandoned them there.
And in your time
they waited one day
while here and now
we still wait and pray.

But these are hours
in eternity,
in time you've claimed
to set us free.
Kept in darkness
I watch and wait
holding the hope
you illustrate,
and knowing forever
I would wait for you,
even without knowing
when the light shines through.

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

NPM: Treason (Day 4)

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.

NPM: Scattered, a Haiku, and some Easter poems

4/16/14
Scattered

The ocean wave is a coiled fist
which tosses its thoughts
across the abiding shore.
From its fingers they fly like
diamonds, sapphires and rubies,
all polished and glistening
among the seashells and sand.
The ocean abandons them
like common pebbles and rocks,
flings them away for
some fool to grasp tightly,
some soul to make their treasure,
some other who has no thoughts.


4/17/14
Untitled Haiku

Listen to the sun.
It is making us lazy.
Summer sleep is near.


4/18/14
Hero

You are not unsung
but what are you to me
with two thousand years
between your death and mine.
You are not outspoken
but passion seems to be
what binds us here
across space and time.
You are not invoked
but come for the great and small,
still you hold them within
your righteous embrace.
You are not illicit
but we hesitate at your call
to forsake other heroes
and follow you from this place.


4/19/14
The Second Day

A silence black
props us up
between the darkness
and tomorrow's glory.
When silence breaks
my heart will sing
and my mouth
will tell
your story.



I'm all caught up now. :)