Even if he didn't rise
He rose
A blossom in the mind
Of men
Of human sacrifice
Acceptance of pain
Why must a great religion
Depend on the crutch
His life has rained grace
Resurrection?
Not so much.
Two thousand years of thought
No change has wrought
We still fight
For so much
Supremacy
Legitimacy
Credibility.
Jesus Christ
Rise high in our hearts
Not because you rose
Because you gave us
Truth.
You were
Who you were
And didn't hide it.
You took death upon your
Shoulders
And bore it.
You did not deny,
Yourself or Him
Your only cry
Was for mercy
On all
We don't need
Any other miracles
Rain gushes
From core of vision
Lips hush
With such profound blessings
Where in the world
Shall we ever find
Such
Love Truth
And integrity.
He is
The Son of God.
He is the Lamb
Of the Lord.
Setting hearts
On fire
Minds alive
To celestial music.
I look upon him
As a man
A divine traveller
Who stopped
At our shoddy little inn
And made it a shrine
By sharing
His blood and body
With us.
We stand upon mere bones
When we exalt technicalities
And seek proof.
Was the tomb
Empty?
Was it robbed?
Who removed what?
All or nothing
Is not what
Matters.
What matters
Is the Sufi music
Cherished desolate
Sweet and savage
Ravaging my heart
On Friday
And Sanctifying it
On Easter.
Light my lamp
Jesus.
You are
What you are.
A vision
That sears lies
And seal
Of Truth.
Son of Man.
And God.
(c) Amrita Valan 2017
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