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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

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