Dear Friends,
I follow no religion but relate to aspects of all of them to some degree.
Below is a poem I wrote years ago regarding the Christian Easter.
It forms one of 333 of my poems I will be publishing later this year.
If either the word ‘poem’ or ‘Christian’ offends you please simply delete this email now. Thankyou.
Part 1: Crossroads
Rough hewn and hard it was
And ten by ten or more
A stately tree of Lebanon
Cut by the poor
Five metres long no doubt
A splintered, knotted face
Hammered to form a man’s
Last resting place
Where is that man who doubts
The ugliness of self?
Who scorns the chill of death?
And talks of ‘inner’ wealth?
Where is this man who dares
To shred our veil of fear?
Who has the hide to hold out hope
That peace is near?
Stretch him across the beams!
Nail him and bind him tight!
See how the dark clouds
Help expunge the Light!
They did it: and were filled
With wonder, awe and doubt.
But they were sure, at least, of this:
They’d straightened that man out!
Part 2: Resurrection Street
They pulled him off the cross,
A lifeless form
And gave him to those waiting by
As was the norm.
They wrapped him tight with cloth:
A sagging shell
Limbs twisted, taut, just like a tree
Bloodied as well.
They left him to his fate:
To decompose
Yet he returned to earth and life
As mankind knows.
The pain that was the cross
He gave away.
Let go and learnt to live again
Another day.
Our pain is always there
‘Til we let go
Then pleasure takes its joyful place:
This truth I know.
The pain desire first forms
Brings up our shield
Yet gives way to a sweeter love
If we should yield.
The pain of giving birth
Gives way to joy
When out of searing hurt and blood
Comes girl or boy
The woes I harbour deep
All disappear
When I confront my shadowed self,
Let go of fear.
That man upon the cross
Passed through his fall….
He showed the only path to joy:
Surrender all.
Part 3: Ascension
For forty days he passed
His time with men
And showed them of his wounds
Time and again.
For forty days the Light
Lived in our dark….
That we might see the Truth,
Might catch a spark!
He said he was the first,
Alpha by name.
And yet he also said
We were the same……
He said he was the last,
Omega’s close
And yet he also said
That mankind knows
There is no need to throw
Illusion to the wind:
Cast stones instead of palms
Where we have sinned.
There is no space or time:
We make it so.
Made in his image
Thus we make fear grow.
The shadows and the wall
Are made by us.
We stand up in the light,
God’s incubus!
Through life we come to death
Through death is Light:
There is no wrong to do
Nor is there right.
That man, so full of holes,
Is you and I !!
See through those wounds we make!
Live! Never Die!!
Les Dyer
Happy Easter