The Cry Comes Before the Rising
The cry comes
before the rising
and yet too late
the alchemy of father
unto son to save.
Shadow corners
what light itself cannot contain.
Such be the abundance
of bread
crumbed, and wine
unsweetened in the gall
we live instead.
© 2010 Maureen E. Doallas
Saturday, April 3, 2010
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13 comments:
wow!
Beautiful.
thank you.
Beautiful poem, Maureen. Simply and elegantly beautiful.
Oh man Maureen. This is amazing.
Silence here ... awed silence
Resting in the living part. Lovely.
♥
two threads developed for me as I read this several times -- i wonder which you were pulling in the writing... fascinating read...
...rob
Image & Verse
lovely poem :-) happy easter.
Astonishingly beautiful and deeply moving.
...the alchemy of the father...
this formula that is so difficult to grasp. too late, yet just in time.
so beautiful, Maureen.
Beautiful.
Happy Easter.
As others said, this is gorgeous. I wasn't as circumspect in the poem about this day on my blog http://loquaciouslyyours.com but I think it's good read. We're on SW together...all best.j
This is really gorgeous poem :)
Marinela
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