The Certainty Of Easter

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A flightless bird takes wing.
The darkness recedes to reveal a new day.
Questions that, once, loomed large
in the shadows of my consciousness
are now swept away, and
in their place:
Emptiness.

Filled, fulfilled, and overflowing,
our moment’s repose deposed for
flowering ideas. These things reveal
a new paradigm for being:
Emptiness.

This birthday morn, when
infant’s cries resound within
these humble digs,
we huddle close, warmed by
the certainty of the coming
Easter.

This painful renewal, this
Endless cycle, bestows
A knowing beyond time.

In time, all things become
Emptiness.

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2 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousalmost 19 years ago
This

I like.

~Syn

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 19 years ago
......

Another great poem, Fflow.

This painful renewal, this

Endless cycle, bestows

A knowing beyond time.

In time, all things become

Emptiness. (I think I would've came up with another word besides "time" due to the one before it)

Other than that, excellent.