VII CRUCIFIXION AND RESURRECTION

Mmm. Across. The horizon. A marriage of I am.

Let it live. Let it breathe. The seasons turn, the moonlight shifts

and nature wakes again. But the crucifixion's happening now, not back where

stories bend. For the cross is my conception, every state I dare to claim.

And the resurrection's breathing life through every I am that I name.

Spring awaken, seeds long sleeping, buried cold beneath the frost. Just like visions

held in silence rising from what once seemed lost. Good Friday's not the mourning,

it's the opening of the door. Where the self I choose to die to