I try to assure my son that Easter always comes
(he’s worried they’ll cancel it because of snow),
but honestly, I have my doubts this time.
There’s still so much iron-ice that just won’t go
away. So gray. The only bright spot is the rain.
Officially not winter. Officially no drought.
Still can’t lift my mood this Holy Saturday,
shivering in my little cave of time, bound
tight by my to do list, behind in everything.
So many of my students have the same
time-panic in their eyes. What we need
is grace and strength and energy, not time.
Just faith that we could ever get caught up
would feel like Easter. A miracle, momentum.
(Image of my son taken by my husband, nath, who can be found online at Nightjar Records.)
Holy Saturday is a rather appropriate day to feel dejected and despairing, kinda like the Virgin Mother at the foot of the cross — or the Myrrh-Bearing Women who had to prepare their/our Lord for burial….. Midnight should manage to bring the Light!