Easter Sunday

Love comes and goes
Lives and dies
Is born again
Do we call that
Or baptism
Or resurrection
Love dies again and again
And is born again
Until it isn’t
Do we call ourselves
Or lovers
Or fools

I think of him
Dying on a tree
The fool
Who hoped too much
Who loved too little
He said
You kissed my dreams
But you betrayed them
So I kissed you
And betrayed you
When my love died
And then I found a tree
And hanged myself

But the other fool
After dying on a tree
The fool
Who hoped enough
Who loved enough
Found him
And said
I came for you
I came for love
Come now
With me
Where there is no faith
Because all is seen
Where there is no hope
Because all is real
But love, oh love
Shining, holding, staying
Is there
Rising forever
With Me

One thought on “Easter Sunday

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