An Easter Song (going deeper)

by Roy K Austin

I trace that early fish that has
eroded from the stone,
but what was meant was mystical
as marrow for the bone !
Through all my life's vicissitudes,
the prayer book and the mat,
I came to know, not what I am
and God is not like that !

Not threadbare in these dusty scrolls -
a place for banished mice,
I never knew the guilt that heard
the cock was crowing thrice !
Arboreal the memory
in weather under lime,
though I may love the myth with you
until the end of time.


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