It Was Foretold

It was foretold to those who cry,
“Cry not for Me who goes to die”,
But for yourselves, if what He said
Should fail to raise the living dead,
   The day will come, perhaps is here,
   When living causes greater fear.

We’ve choked the channels of our birth
And raised instead unmothered mirth,
Unfathered offspring named despair,
And birthed whatever life we dare
    To feel the pulse of earth despite
    The hopeless cries of darkened night.

Are we so bound? Turn this around,
Behold! An empty tomb is found
Where death had thought its victory
Could bury hope’s true mystery,
    Hope raises spirits from the grave,
    Rebirths the fearful into brave.

And every life becomes the seed,
If on His nourishment will feed,
Then sprouts another gift from God-
Eternal hope in mortal sod,
    His image present every day
    To raise the light and shine the way.

Rich Tassinari 2/22/14