Another Easter
The little old ladies
wore their easter bonnets today
as they walked up the side
walk towards the church.
I was wearing two day
old blue jeans
and a t-shirt
drinking a morning
coffee.
It must be easter.
Little children were outside
early screaming, some of
them showing off a new
kite other stuffing
their face with chocolate.
I flipped through the channels
and caught glimpses
of golf and baseball replays.
Soon enough the easter bonnets
started walking back to their
cars. Mrs. Gilbertson, nintey-something,
walking strong on shaky legs saw me in my window and
waved at me while showing off her toothy smile,
“Happy Easter!”
I waved back from behind my window.
I then wen back inside and sat down
to the flashbacks of morning communions
when life revolved around Sunday brunches,
and I always woke up to a freshly ironed
shirt my grandma picked out from me
excited to learn something new about
the bible from Sunday School–
back then the Bible seemed more fascinating
than scary. I shudder now with the turn
of every page to count the sins and misdirections
our society has taken.
I go back to the TV flipping through rich politicians,
sitcom re-runs, and finally to a
preacher shouting “Smile for he has risen.”
I turned off the TV and went back to
bed and wondered
where it was I fell.
You fell down the rabbit hole of life. The further you go, the more it changes. And what the heck is an Easter Bunny anyway?
Ah the Easter bunny, such a creepy little creature. I like to think of the ol’ bunny as a mythical pagan hit-man hired to dig little rabbit holes and forked tunnels in our lives so that five years from now we can try to figure out where we went wrong. The only evidence we’ll ever find is a Cadbury egg, a mirror, and several little pellets of what could or couldn’t be chocolate.
Very poignant. As Easter reminds us every year, you can fall and always get back up again and give it another go.