Easter VigilWarrior Heart,
Pilgrim Soul
And what more do I have to give?
I am tired and sucked dry;
blood oozes out of these fingers
in place of words that would not come.
Fly me to my Muses
out there, in the western realm,
then far beyond, into the south-east
corridors of time.
Revive me with the songs of my youth,
the ones left out to petrify in
winds of rumored obsolescence—
this heart is ancient, not antiquated.
Let me gather the colors of my rainbow,
erect a ladder to redemption—
this mind is ripe for the harvest,
this body, poised for resurrection.
I realize now: This time is not
the time to give,
but to receive.
Poet’s Notes: In this season of Lent and upcoming Easter, I thought I’d share a
few thoughts that may seem counter-intuitive to what we ordinarily hear in
sermons across churches and other places of worship at this time. Our culture
has conditioned us to be selfless and self-sacrificing—these, we’re taught, are
the values of Christianity so apt to re-learn during this season.
Our minds are confined within boxes that our religion and culture have
molded them in since childhood. Many of these boxes are good; some, not so
good. In this season of renewal, I hope we could get inspired to challenge a
few of those boxes that aren’t working so well for the renewal of Mankind as a
whole, and for each of us, in particular. Sometimes, the best thing for
us is to accept help when we need it, and to receive the bounty that awaits us
if we could only transcend the box that contains us. Let us free our minds to
ponder the possible. Salvation is attainable insofar as our imagination could
envision it.
