In this space between the trauma and the rising
tears
like raindrops clinging to a purple forest pansy leaf
hold back precariously behind a luminous smile
which is led by hand into the front parlour
to greet the visitor who will not
comprehend the pain anyway
even if he would
for it is
unimagineable!
In this empty space
this still Holy Sabbath
beyond feeling
we wait
in joy full hope!
Joy?
From whence does that translucent smile arise?
How does it hover over a void that may not be looked into?
Is it to protect that memory
to shield the visitor from what is un-bare-able in public
or to protect the sacred memory
that sacred flame
?
Between the trauma of death
whether by short sharp violent crucifixion
or extended agony of abuse
repeated and repeated
and
repeated...
Between that and rising
stretches this empty time of tears that do not flow
glistering beyond a thin veil
of beautiful bravery
smiling
Is this in fact the only authentic genuine true
smile
when a broken heart a fractured self a shredded person
fronts fellow felled fragments
on this tragic
track
?
In Jerusalem
this empty day was over soon
For others
the wait is longer
for the rising
They do not idle the time
they rise
themselves
and fight this evil that destroys
the innocent
the unsuspecting
the unwary children
They expose to light what is kept in darkness
refusing to shut up lie down or go away
they speak out
they inform the world
and let dark facts be seen
in light to truly
heal