The body was felled,
the tree of life broken at last,
the fruit we tasted his bitter last supper.
as always, redeemed
to this blank desert of horrors
to prove that there was a Promised Land
somewhere. Our forty years has not ended.
so we are pulled in two,
reeled in by the death, the inner evil
just to whet our lips with glorious water
that is blood, from the slain Rock
we drown in his death/we savor his life.
a people addict choosing to be alone,
to work, pressing forward
schedules conflicting, rarely speaking.
hearing whispers of the most wonderful time spent with friends.
faith, don’t fail me now.
the excitement of knowing that you are out there
that you finally want to speak and listen
delights me silently
knowing that there is hope –
I have a chance. I really do.