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Easter Week: Version 1

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This week, eternity descends from wounded skies,
And crashes like lightning into our humdrum lives.
We are forced, at length, to decipher seemingly
Obscure symbols, hymns and signs; which indeed, in
Our glazed, modern eyes, belong to some other time.
Flesh equates to bread; blood is conflated with wine.
For this solemn week speaks of profound human pain,
And life's redemption, like the healing April rain.
Tuesday, April 7, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: easter
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5/17/2021 2:58:46 PM # 1.0.0.578