We Mourn

Night falls
God is dead
The Earth keens in the throes of woe
Sons rend their clothes
Daughters beat their chests, crying into their Mother’s lap
All is sorrow

We Mourn

We cannot wash the dead without a body
Cannot shroud in linen nor scent with perfume that which we cannot touch
But we can reach out to comfort our kin
Pushing bits of flesh into mouths moistened by holy blood
Tears turn to laughter as water turns to wine
All is joy

Still, We Mourn

Sacred stories, sacred songs
Memories keep the flame alive
Clapping hands, stomping feet beat the drums in praise
Ecstasy spills forth from fiery tongues
Our Lord’s most secret names
Life begets Death begets Life

Mourning ends when morning comes
Green sprouted from the grave
A single sheaf gives rise to a field
Flower prints replace widow whites
Grey clouds part to greet the Sun
Hosanna He lives again!

About fenifuego

Just trying to make sense of myself and the world.
This entry was posted in faith, life, new beginnings and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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