Ostara

I

He marked the spot in Jerusalem
where the dance began.
Thrice He told them to follow truly
and walk with Him
in the valleys
where the wind no longer weeps,
on the shores
where fishermen never sail alone
in the temple
where the curtain was torn
and haughty ministers forsaken.
"Better to heal than to condemn,"
He said.
"The believers' doors lead to Me,
not the tomb.
Lay the liturgy to rest."
But they had their own Easter.


II

They looted this spot,
morning pilgrims robed in brown
kissing their own footsteps,
sepulchral worshippers
on a new procession in the old city,
men of high office
prostrated before a peculiar altar
in the name of their fathers' faith.
He was a shepherd, not a clergyman.
An ancient knell;
they say the bell
turned black.
But what senseless hymns are these
and what mechanical services
and what hollow sermons
and premeditated prayers?
We will have our own Easter.