The sun slices through the deep emerald grass—standing to attention
With the breeze whisking away the morning dew
The oculi peer through their covering, unwrapping before the manifold witness of the air;
Moments dangle as from twine flexing in the force of time
Plentiful shrieks of anguish flood the pale peeling walls of the populated space;
The crescendo thrust catapulting new life into the low hanging arms of another
Warmth rolled back, hard wood faced
The habitual wake of the morn upon us
Stench penetrates the rotting cocoon of the sojourner;
Sorrow bubbles out of endearing supporters
Behold, the trump resounds!
Dry bones are laced with life.
Waiting souls ushered into rest.
The entryway of eternity is opened!
Boxes empty; Life is full!

© Daniel Schwamm, All Rights Reserved, 2015.


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