But The Dead did Not Rise

In the shade of the Lazarus tree
we laid the bodies side by side.
and waited for them to rise:
refreshed, replenished, free.

But they did not rise.

The weather was rough; the weather was mild.
The wind spread the seeds of renewal
all over the earth.
But the dead did not rise.

They had risen once from their mothers’ wombs.

Why wouldn’t they rise again?

In the snap of a single second

the tune of living was not sung.

Expecting resurrection

and instead just decaying flesh.

 

But the dead did not rise.

 

The floor was cold; the floor was hot.

The scent of death was pre-eminent

all over the catalogue.

 

Why won't the celebrations begin?

 

We caress each other

in pickled juices of metaphors;

extending hands that do not touch.

 

But the dead did not rise.

Neither do we.

Reviews

[Aristede Craig Jr]

o my fantastic well crafted magnificient I loved it

[Manpreet]

Nice piece!

[lee von cleef]

good job ,cord wood stacked,dead so it seems,what once was alive,has changed from a person to a thing,But the cord wood stacked will keep me warm this winter,and those dead who will not rise ,shall carry the broken, who have forgotten their souls.

[The Elusive Mr Dunne]

Wow. A very well crafted piece. Loved the Lazarus tree line. Well done. Mr dunne

[imagination101]

Crafted with perfection!

[Rene Velez]

no we do not, Splendid work Chris.

[storiestotell]

Nice work as always!

[Stanley Wilson]

great work very well crafted poem enjoyed it

[angelink]

I feel this poem so deeply within myself. When we ask for miracles and they do not happen then what do we think? I guess that is a true test of faith.