cold in the grave he lay
molecules toward disorder
consumed by tiny parasitic life
bearing the disappointment of a movement
the dashed hopes of followers
the unfulfilled promise of God
utterly forsaken
by ‘Abba Dear Father’
the coldest shoulder
then a bzzzt and a flicker
a subtle stirring
now a breath
but still enveloped
in darkness
pushing through
the earth shakes
unable to contain
the energy
eyes opening
muscles taut
synapses firing
rising up
like a great cosmic muse
to ignite the dreams
of a tired world
Posted in: NaPoWriMo