Resurrection - Poem by Eric Cockrell
if you've never carried a cross,
or wore a self-imposed crown of thorns,
you cannot experience resurrection!
the life we're trained from birth to live,
on a see-me, feed-me premise,
is a form of death,
aka, a type of hell!
in order to redeem ourselves,
to validate the experience of the human condition,
all that is body, the outer body,
the body that sucks and grinds,
has to die.
we have to let go of the concept
of freedom in order to be free.
the image has to be shattered,
in order to find the truth...
in the cold dark night of time,
we can either have fire,
or a picture of fire.
the picture is useless!
the cross - the picture!
the crown of thorns - our attachment.
Comments about Resurrection by Eric Cockrell
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.