Saturday, April 27, 2013

27. Ascension

At Bethany,
He is there
but gone,
He leaves
but doesn’t go.

The broken sky gapes wide,
a curtain torn again-
and the crack in the wounds of time
begins its healing
with the dressing
of a cloud.

There is no fanfare
at this pseudo departure
no sounding of bells
or beating of drums,
no salute of guns
to roar the air with their invasion,
no wail of mourners
nor wine-fed wake.

There is only
the drumming of heartbeat
as the words of blessing fade.
There is only
the turning to a page
saying death is not the end.

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