On the Prospect of Not Celebrating Easter this Year

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On the Prospect of Not Celebrating Easter this Year

Will Christ not rise again

This year

For us?

 

Is he in fact

Still

Dying among us?

In those succumbed

To COVID-19.

 

Or is he

Still

Dead?

Is he in the tomb

With us?

Quarantined from life

Before rising

Infected and decaying

With the virulence

Of toxins?

Of needy-greedy panic

Grabs at shopping shelves?

As panicked voices

Constantly ask questions

What about this?

Or that?

What now?

What now indeed.

 

Will there be no people

As the body of Christ

Holding their candles

Light in the Lord?

Signs that Christ

Has risen

And shines

In us and

Among us?

 

Or are we consigned

To private piety,

In our own place,

So foreign

To genuine faith

That seeks to hold us together

As parts of the body

Of the Risen Lord?

What of this distant,

Isolated,

Seclusion?

Dying alone

In the dark

And waiting

In the tomb?

 

When will we rise?

When shall we hear?

Magdalene’s cry:

“I have seen

The Lord!

And heard his voice!

 

 

Simon C.J. Falk 21 March 2020

 


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The Fighter

The Fighter

We all know that life is busy for so many people.  Some days we take it in our stride. On other days it annoys, frustrates or frightens us. This poem explores some of that condition.  It places the primal fight-flight mechanism right into the breach of the dialogue.

 

The Fighter

 I am the boxer

Flailing on the rope

Trying to knock away my opponent

And I fear I cannot cope.

 

The demands come

Like constant jabs

Shooting pains

At times from various directions

Google calendar alerts

Email inboxes

Pushy ‘push notifications’

Piles of ‘snail mail’

Tetchy texts

And more besides

Come in.

“Can we make a time?”

“This opportunity not to be missed!”

“Have you read those documents?”

I want to shred those documents!

 

I am the wrestler

Grappling with the foe

Trying hard to throw them off

Then down the road I’ll go.

 

Then there are the regulars

The constant appointments

Didn’t I just write a report?

“Umm, that was last month’s one,

now we need another one.”

“We haven’t seen you at our group for a while.”

 

I am the runner

Running from the malaise

Darting here and darting there

Fleeing all my days

 

Ahh, a free night!

Put the phone on silent!

Get out of town.

Go to a quiet place

And keep company with your soul.

Be quick!

Or your opportunity will get eaten up!

 

I am the writer

Fighting with pen again

Trying to make some sense

And to verbalise the pain

 

To anaesthetise the pain

 

Or pour it down the drain

 

And purge away the drain

 

Before I go insane.

 

 

Simon C.J. Falk  17 May 2014

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