Poetica: We are forever passing over

Painting by Victor Khlistunov
 

I awoke this morn

as if risen from the dead.

Bright, fresh, without pain.

 

My Easter breakfast –

ham, hummus, matzoth –

taste declared my faiths.

 

But reflection came.

Hello?!, said the rising sun,

Open the window!

 

History becomes

what we choose to pass over,

what we let blow in.

 

Why is it a crime

to deny one holocaust,

yet carry one on?

 

New Jerusalem,

built by, on native bodies,

our amnesia?

 

Palestine, then, now,

our manypest destiny

on all continents?

 

Conquistadores,

always rising from the dead?

It's only human?

 

Torture, execute

political prisoners

held in Jesus name?

 

Yesterday, today,

slave trade is free enterprise,

politics business.

 

Our forgetfulness

in building identity...

ecumenical!

 

Christian, Jew, Muslim

Take care how you celebrate,

select memories!

 

Choose festivity!

Gather with your family,

make friends with your world.

 

Accept good wishes,

shared on my Feast of All Fools,

my Easter mourning.

 


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