Easter Morning

The last several weeks I have experienced a bit of writer’s block. This time of year is difficult for me. Painful. It represents a time that used to be full of celebration and certainty, that now is full of difficult memories and doubt. I have wanted to put words to this, to relay what makes Easter so hard for the ex-Christian, but I was not able to do so. I don’t feel the poem I wrote today is the true essence of my thoughts, as it focuses almost exclusively on my hurt, on my cinicism, but I felt the need to give those feelings voice.

Easter Morning:

The church bells ring out from the hill,

words which no longer make me free,

though I try, I’m a doubter still;

resurrection does not wait for me.

For years these hymns made my heart soar,

I sang with pride and gaiety;

now my spirit is craving more.

Resurrection does not wait for me.

How has this day become reversed?

What once lived is now dead to me.

Once it blessed me; now I am cursed.

Resurrection does not wait for me.

The church bells ring out from the hill,

resurrection does not wait for me.

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3 thoughts on “Easter Morning

  1. Well, the story of resurrection existed long before Christ. I think it falls to we ex-Christians to see clearly the distortions of two thousand years of politics masquerading as faith. A rabbi taught about love. His followers turned him into something personal that he wasn’t. And then Saul of Tarsus turned him into something religious that he wasn’t. Constantine went all out and created the Imperial Christ.

    What about the rabbi who taught about love? The only way to resurrect him is to…love. Humanly. Honestly. Without the pomp and circumstance of religion. Without the spiritual ecstasy. Really love.

    But I feel this poem. I know this poem. My heart still bleeds these words too. I don’t know if that will ever change.

    Liked by 3 people

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