Monday, April 11, 2011

elevation at an Easter cemetery

Harvey S. Mozolak

above the graves
cross-shaped pastels
flowers arranged in sprays
ground rays cut
desperately dependent
on visits and watering hands
a few as bunnies and novelties
in a children’s section
called The Holy Nursery
where the clusters of the living
seem tighter and linger longer

some poke a fisted outcrop of stone
at the sky as if to rip open
clouds that drag east
too near the earth
with their closing curtains of tears
others low lie encouraging
a falsity of green and age
the grass to grow at their edges
the dirt to accumulate in seams
as remembrance dims and deems
less attention
to the barren bedding of dear affection

looking toward the morning light
where there is a grove of three wintered trees
at the border
of this vast green field
a church has come to be
within its walls another rock rises as a grave table
of blessing a pedestal beyond
on which to hear and place
the said and tasted
above and within the broken loaf
the fingered sign lip to lip of the cup
and below in ferment of faith
where words are heard like these

if you have been raised with Christ,
seek the things that are above,
where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God.
Set you minds on things that are above,
not on things that are on earth,
for you have died and your life is hidden with Christ in God.
When Christ who is your life is revealed,
then you also will be revealed with him in glory.

above the graves
that are our houses and homes
built from the small forest of pain
and boulders that stubbornly remain
hope is gathered by its stems of trust
into bouquets of love
lifted by the song that rises above
and plants itself toward heaven
with roots like organ pipes
trumpet pistons drum skins
the metal shells of cymbals
and joyful drape of bells
raised above

where lives in Christ
are his glory revealed

(text within, Easter epistle: Colossians 3. 1-4)

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