Lazarus
Gestures weave
strips of burial cloth
cross-hatching
of sounds
violent and soothing
like a balm
on the day of death.
Jesus wept.
Jesus weeps with me
in joy and sorrow,
frustration and calm.
Our cries do not
go unnoticed.
We tear off
the garment
binding us to darkness,
enter into the Easter
of light eternal.
Margaret Simon, draft
At Ethical ELA, Melissa Heaton prompted us to write an ekphrastic poem, a poem about art. I turned to my father’s illustration of Lazarus. This drawing was in his folder of bible study material. His usual style was pointillism. This drawing, to me, is striking with its wild gestures.
Yesterday, for Good Friday, I led a morning meditation. My friend Carolyn played her singing bowls while the lawn mowers roared outside. At first I was irritated by this invasion, but as I wrote, I found that the juxtaposition of sounds was the point.
The Progressive Poem is with Donna Smith at Mainely Write.
Reflections on the Teche 
This is beautiful. The poem lands in such a meaningful way as I read it in the waiting between Good Friday and Easter. The observation about the juxtaposition of sound is something I will carry with me to shape my experience moving forward. Thank you for sharing.
This poems lands in such a meaningful way in the waiting between Good Friday and Easter, and the juxtaposition of sound is something that will shape my experience moving forward. Thank you for sharing.
Bowls, outdoor noise, and prayer-beautiful!