Here lies the silent music
of the mourners, piling like rice
waiting for a resurrection
in a wasteland
here like the silent music
of the mourners, with flowers
holding petals, shredded out
yellow, red, pink and gradation of hope
for the King lies in a shroud
made with musk and linen
wrapped, Lord of the universe
maker, human, seeker of peace
here lies the silent music
of the mourners, us among them,
in black and dark blue
roughened and bruised
mourning the tapping
of a morning on the windows of resurrection.
No comments:
Post a Comment