A Poem for Easter 2018
Rubaiyat of a Fire
Look, the precipice: a man of power
From his forearm a great flood will shower
But never will he eclipse the silk moon
In firestorm hearts all flames do cower;
A twisted live oak is weeping at noon
The crooked stranger has made his lampoon
Sending his rift through lights of day and eve
Laments of red ashes one will quench soon;
Though hot waves of pain roll up as a sleeve
Victims of malice made fuel for death grieve
Still peace is wherever one looks higher
It charges the shadow, “From weak ones, leave.”
Though tear-scarred trails are marked by the fire
Out from the weary moonless char mire
Rises unbroken one golden flower
Defying the triumph, “Death is a liar!”
Image Credit:
Russian Forest Fire
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-10837706
Yellow flower rising from ashes
http://christiestephens.blogspot.com/2011/11/out-of-ashes-we-rise.html
