My Easter Dream

I managed some sleep; against every odd;
severe pain searing each wrist;
although, all things are the province of God;
I felt demonically kissed.

My dreams were images of my frustration;
awakening on an Easter morn;
my mind was brought to its very foundation;
feeling the pain of evil’s scorn.

As the pain slightly eased; I thought of tomorrow;
would I still be able to work, and write;
compounded by feelings of heartaches and sorrow;
sensing an approaching endless night.

I reside in a kingdom; where demons reign;
what will I do; and where can I go;
now was no time for a mere poet to complain;
now was my season to grow.

The Master is faithful to send us a sign;
reminding us, how far we’ve come;
our very worst pain is totally benign;
compared to the fate of God’s Son.

My wrists reminded of the pain of the nails;
in such pain; the Master forgave;
all of life’s pain, in comparison, pales;
to the pain, He took to the grave.

I know not; what my future may hold;
but, fear must wait for another day;
I am the meek; who must become bold;
and my Father will show me the way.

Monty 3/31/24. # 2,062