At the eclipse, the birds fall
silent, the earth shrugs its mantle
of shadows close; death comes
easily, a simple matter of forgiving all
that life still owes
Resurrection rises with the spring
equinox sun pressing home its higher vantage.
The very rock unfurls; the tomb is warmed;
salt dissolves; the taste of something
The night before, the world turned still
toward its winter moon, the garden chill
with sleep, shifting friends face down
dreams of betrayal, torches burn a false dawn.
The hardest is to stay, still