Powdery feathers flutter on abandoned shelves
Fanning forth the dust of ages, clarity renewed
Yawning tomes stripped of concealing layers, revealed
With text revived from the ravages of time.
Beneath weathered flame, in darker times
How the faded words, obscured in accumulation
Seemed to string falsehoods, to arise jumbled
Speaking messages so far from the truth within the pages.
Yet, with flame born anew, in full light
I see plainly these old words, stains on a white rag
New messages, callous to my forsaken youth
Indifferent to my childhood spent listening to mistakes.
New bumps, new curves, discard simplicity
The once dead words, revived, leave my memories in their stead
Awaken and rejoice, as truth prevails
Even if it leaves us sullen afterwards.
Shouldn’t Easter Be a Much Bigger Deal?
2 weeks ago
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