Vignettes
331'13
Resurrection Day
The day of triumph, our Savior immolated, descending to the
underworld,
retrieving the keys, muting the sting of death, risen again.
Our hope in Christendom with that event above others in the
New Testament,
merging with the immutable,
to have and love our Being,
our need for conscious never extinguished.
Crowley's Ridge, above Maple Hill Cemetery, Helena,
early morning, awaiting sunrise.
Facing east, overlooking the Great River,
Easter morning in the 80s, the sun bursts over the horizon
as many mornings for millennia,
our hope rekindled in the moment sacrifice became triumph.
My mom's family just below, we hope for their sake,
we believe for our sake.
Here they rest, along the Mississippi River,
muggy, dying place grasping frantically for its past.
Resurrection morning peaks above, will be a nice day,
fried chicken and ham, what else?
Buffet-style, most of mom's family will gather,
the ones living close by.
Life's blessings extended beyond death,
hope.
BB
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