Easter Mourning Poem by Amy Bengtson

Easter Mourning



In the hospital, a mother cries feebly, dreamless.
The son holding his mother for the last time
Joins the hymn.
The refrain tastes like aspirin
And reeks with the odor of hopelessness.
But there is hope that
Tomorrow, it will happen again to new faces.
Anguish has no expiration date.

But a prick, feather-light and saber-pointed
Pierces the bloated side of the rancid world,
And life gushes out,
Leaving space for Life to enter.
And the sugary sensation of hopefulness
Promises to us all that
Tomorrow, it will happen again in new spaces.
Resurrection has no limit.

And the world sighs, grins, and
Resumes its dreaming.
Easter wins.

Monday, February 20, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: easter,hope,religion,religious,resurrection
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