Spring
Written for Easter / video ver.
Winter is almost gone
We endured every day like medicine,
drop by drop down our tongues, hoping that one day,
the snowfall would turn to snow falling drop by drop down the trees
which cup each flake as if it were a child
like you were held as if you were a child
when they laid you down,
on icy, lifeless stone,
and wrapped you in cloth,
separated from your home where moth
nor rust does not corrupt
because no sacrifice could measure up
to you
Did winter settle into your tomb,
like the millions of whispers
which shrouded the hushed afternoon
Did it seep like the guilt into the bones of people who knew
that your father would rip the temple curtain in two, looking for you,
Did the earth tremble as he scoured the ground for the warmth of the beating heart of his son
Did everyone wonder if you would really come back to life?
Cause every Easter
your death still lingers like winter
The aftertaste of this medicine is bitter,
in a place that we cannot reach
And after every sermon that we preach
our guilt resurfaces like
worms after every spring storm
While you slept
Did you smell the moss on the walls closing in on you,
Or did you feel fresh air whistling through the cracks of the stone that sealed you in
Did your middle eastern winter taste like cool, bitter winds
like the winter we drank like medicine
drop by drop down our throats
until it lived in our lungs,
making our vessels shiver,
as we told ourselves:
just one more day,
just one more day,
Did you tell yourself:
just one more day
just one more day
until the third day
when the linens
slipped away from your body
like the snow slipping off the branches of trees
Your eyebrows stirred like caterpillars in their cocoons
The roses on your crown of thorns began to bloom