Passover

An epoch in the sunshine
By the shade of white colonnades
pristine comfort supporting, sustaining
Hoisting the purity of youthfulness
The sacraments of sweet joy
without sacrifice.
Initiation rites to life.

We, descending
To mid afternoon
Find new bliss
a honing of our minds
To rapier sharp instruments
Of perception
Receiving eucharistic manna
A cognitive ecstasy
Releasing  epiphanies of understanding
Orgasmic self congratulatory states.

In Neverland
Youth never grows up
to Wasteland.

But mere mortals
like moths
are drawn to flames
Of their convictions
To the courageous completion
Of trials
Witches or saints
the world shall give verdict
After passover.

Ascend we
in the evening
The funeral pyre
Bonfires of treachery
Tingling our toes
Scatter ashes
To the world
Wild winds
Of our fear.

We have but finished
Our wonderful day
And the birthday party
Of our tidy lives.

And now
Usher in night's
Succubus bliss
The shadow descends
the colonnades disappear
Into an all encompassing darkness.

Then hark.
The darkness speaks!
Nay sings melodies
Of bones
outliving flesh.
Thoughts outliving minds.
Memories outliving lives.

Feel...
The lutes of love serenades
Flutes of fleeting fantasies
Now...
That the guests are gone
The party is a wrap.

What lies beneath
This footstool
Of Time's walkabout
Faintest footsteps receding
Fading away

What lies beneath
Are presents
We're yet to unwrap
Leftovers and culminations
Of brief forays
into life.

The wasteland
Is worthy

It yields up
Beyond measure.

The wasteland
Is eternity
after tunneling
Through darkness.

And beyond the subtle edge
Of Non being
after the nihilistic tears
Lies the most magnificent
Unimaginable treasure.

(c) Amrita Valan 2016