Here we are again,
on that dusty road lined with dazzling mirrors.
Let us seek our reflections and find ourselves
amidst all the characters we’ve played
a thousand times, taking our chosen places
as we enter the new story, the sacred story,
the human story, the heart of it, right now.
What is truth?
And who are we this time?
The Priest? The one who feels his power eclipsed and slipping,
so lost in the service of two masters that he cannot
find his way back to his diminished heart?
The Friends, whose fear and fatigue leave their companion
desolate and abandoned? Oh, how we’ll dance through laughter and lies
before dancing away in dark denial.
Or perhaps we are The Traitor, whose greed barters
infinite peace for the cool slide of silver in his palm.
Someone has to do it, we tell ourselves.
The Judge? So rigid with archaic law he cannot bend
to suit the case before him? Too small to see the breadth
and meaning of the moment? Too bound by the past
to midwife justice in the present? Dead before death?
Are we among The Silent who stand and watch,
hungry for violence that will excuse our inaction
and fill our emptiness?
Too afraid? Are we The Cowards who cannot act
against injustices we see, condemned every moment
to open the door and never enter? What chances
we’ve lost to change the world. What gifts we have wasted.
What is truth?
Are we once again The Follower?
Eager to be ordered,
free of the burden to think.
Rank given, actions commanded,
conscience drowned by unexamined fealty,
ever ready to pound nails and pierce flesh.
And if we’re The Consigned, compelled
to carry the burden behind the accused who falters
in his steps, can we meet the act with grace, while
jeered at and spat upon?
Maybe this time we’re The Lovers,
walking the road,
witnessing the pain,
feeling the loss,
Are we at last The Immanent One?
Pure and transparent, the treasure sought,
the light beyond darkness, steeped in dread and Yes,
the suffering sin-eater descending into rotting evil
to rise, blossoming forever in Love?
Perhaps we’re The Attendants,
rolling away the massive rock
unsealing death, awaiting The Seeker.
Or just this once, we are The Seeker,
encountering the blinding truth
of soaring news and empty tombs,
sharing the message of resurrected life,
so joyful it is music that must be sung.
Whatever your spirituality, I hope your week will be blessed; of course, I believe they’re all holy, but for me, this one holds such lovely invitations to explore, listen, and grow. If you celebrate Easter, may it be joyful, and I hope that spring and peace will blossom fully for all of us.
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