Easter Card

easter-chimes-awaken-nature-1896.jpg!Large Alphonse Mucha

“Easter Chimes Awaken Nature” by Alphonse Mucha

Seraphim sing in no time zone. Cherubim see

as clearly on as back, invest acacia wood with arkhood

in their certainty; their winged ornamentation

gilds the tabernacle shade. Comprehending the

compacted plan centered in every seed, the grown

plant is no more real to them, and no surprise.

Dampened by neither doubt nor supposition,

the archangel sees with eyes sharper than ours.

For him, reality’s seemingly random choice is all clear

Cause and Effect: each star of snow tells of intelligence;

each cell carries its own code; at a glance each angel

knows from whence the crests of all the wrinkles on

the sea rebound. He has eternity to tell it all,

and to rejoice.

easter-angel-1959.jpg!Large salvador dali

“Easter Angel” by Salvador Dali

But here and now in Judea, what is

this scandal of particularity? This conjunction of straw

and splendor? Of deity and agony? The echo of

sharp laughter from a crowd, as hammered nails pierce flesh,

pierces the Bright Ones with perplexity. They see

the Maker’s hands helpless against Made Wood.

The bond is sealed with God’s blood, the body buried.

In this is Love’s substance become darkness

to their light. The Third Day sweetens the mystery.

Astonished heralds now of Resurrection,

they have eternity to solve it, and to praise.

 

 — from “Angel Vision” by Luci Shaw

Did you know that Hallmark commissioned Salvador Dali to make a series of greeting cards? I believe this must have been one of the few images saccharin enough for such a use, and yet…. Trusting the artist enough to look deeper I see that butterfly crucified and the angel meditating on the grueling and transformative power of the cross, on death and resurrection and God and humanity revealed in one body.

Happy Easter! Christ is risen!

Advent Again – day 20

Who am I.. that you have brought me thus far?

cubist-self-portrait-dali

Cubist Self-Portrait (1923) by Salvador Dali

from “Who Understands Me But Me?” by Jimmy Santiago Baca

I cannot fly or make something appear in my hand,
I cannot make the heavens open or the earth tremble,
I can live with myself, and I am amazed at myself, my love,
my beauty,
I am taken by my failures, astounded by my fears,
I am stubborn and childish,
in the midst of this wreckage of life they incurred,
I practice being myself,
and I have found parts of myself never dreamed of by me,
they were goaded out from under rocks in my heart
when the walls were built higher,
when the water was turned off and the windows painted black.
I followed these signs
like an old tracker and followed the tracks deep into myself,
followed the blood-spotted path,
deeper into dangerous regions, and found so many parts of myself,
who taught me water is not everything,
and gave me new eyes to see through walls,
and when they spoke, sunlight came out of their mouths,
and I was laughing at me with them,
we laughed like children and made pacts to always be loyal,
who understands me when I say this is beautiful?