Threshold

 (thoughts approaching Easter 8)

 

A cockerel crows its betrayal of night

the gold light of dawn

kissing the Light.

The sun throws its gold coinage

from horizon's prison

the ransom of release paid.

Another prison

opens its rocky door

that had no grip, no holding power

but kept the living at bay

until the third day

and the beginning.

Standing on the threshold of an empty tomb:

the void is endless,

darknesses complete,

as we stare into the abyss.

Eternity is not within

however much it draws us in,

however much it tears apart,

however much it breaks our heart.

Eternity has left

the building;

we must turn our eyes

from what has gone

and look for what

is yet to come,

in the warmth

of a new day

in the garden

of hope.