Lazarus kisses the stars
Was Lazarus, upon awakening, filled with relief at his non-dead-ness,
Fingers wiggling, the warm wind blowing through his matted beard and hair
Or did he sense the return, the hope, the glorious life to come?
Was it just enough to be, once again, in the sun?
When spring riotously pushes forth, do the trees rejoice
At having a voice, of returning from the frozen ground?
Do they have a sense at all, of the fruition to come
The flowers, the fruit, roots deepening further into the ground?
The cooing baby gurgling, drooling, crooning to her mama
Feeling the stretch of skin, the new powers within
Each day, life unfolding more fully
Does she sense that this other-being-ness of mother
This alien form of “woman”, is already pulling her inexorably forth
After a long winter
A death in the family
or a battened down heart
rebirth can seem inconceivable
But one day
The breeze feels different
The flowers more vibrant
The air, suddenly sweet
When the grim monotony of the habit of survival recedes
Promising the prospect of life
When the shell cracking open reveals the green grass, blue sky and birdsong
And the miracle of non-dead-ness is grasped
No further glory, no widening story, nor hopes or wishes or those fanciful dreams
None need further stir the soul
All glories are grasped, potentiality instantly seized,
The past and future made irrelevant
By the blinding passionate all consuming glory of LIFE! HERE! NOW!
Lazarus, don’t just take up your mat, brother – kiss the face of the stars! dance with God!
Weep with joy