Sunday, March 23, 2008

March


So much collides
In these small days. Today
Spring begins, and Purim at sundown:
The earth rolls sleepily into a patch
Of sunlight. We don masks
And crowns.

Tomorrow
Jesus will die,
And the moon will fill herself
Full. Sunday he will rise:

Small feet will shift
In ankle socks. We speak
Murder to one another;
Fertility, salvation. Birdsong.
We are wrapped
In the sky-blue skirts
Of holy women and heroines, and red forgiveness
Runs down the aisles. We will hide our faces
And plant eggs
Like they were seeds. We will all
Be reborn.

Poem by Kate Horowitz

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6 comments:

Gritty Pretty said...

amen.

Kate Horowitz said...

Does this mean you're re-painting Hellebore again? Happy Easter.

chiggy said...

I love that poem--such nice imagery!!!

so said...

cb
i will miss you in springville for wayne
i will be in cali
snowboarding TV show
hope to see you soon
wanna meet for some peruvian food sometime?
cheers
so

Sara said...

i love that poem

sarahandtim said...

incredible poem

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