Death of Death


"Death has been swallowed up in victory.
Where, O death, is your victory?
Where, O death, is your string?"
The sting of death is sin,
and the power of sin is the law.
I opened Your abode to let him enter,
A holy hav'n for th' world's tormentor.
O God, What am I to do with Osama?
O Would I break Your sanctuary, O Amma!
Does he dream of bugs and mushrooms,
Heralding a desert order
Of scoured lands and crushed blooms,
Purified, allowing no quarter?
The sky darkens in anger, rumbles, and  flashes,
Then roars and cries:
Death and its apostles hide from the booming and torrent
But Life and its apostles stand with arms raised high.
Before the execution cell I stand
To put in Dissolution's phantom hand
A writ of life and hope
To cut the hangman's rope
And make a world of second chances
That good and bad alike enhances.
The nihilists say we go to Paradise if we kill our enemies.
I say we go to Paradise when we love them -- even if we die doing it.
O Love, You cannot arise from our defense
Because, requiring such insane expense,
You go against all rationale and sense

Poems of Life

Variations on the Passion