Easter, Hours Before Dawn

Easter, Hours Before Dawn

Linda McCullough Moore

I can’t see the clock. 
Is he up yet? Who else 
shushed the angels. God
put the risen dead to bed 
last night all tuckered out 
from two days back alive, 
while he
stormed the caverns
of requited dooms,
made tombs
ridiculous.

But how can even he 
rein in the laughter
capable of parting seas -
before the mountains were 
brought forth or ever they 
had formed the earth -
that morning, 
so very like/so very unlike this
—the world has aged, and man.

But for today
they hang the morning star
in reach of children. 
He has already
pulled the covers 
from the corners of the sky,
made coffee, stoked the dawn,
called home, sat down to wait.

Tapping his foot.
Love isn’t patient.

Now risen, 
He might rend the night.
Love isn’t kind.

---

Linda McCullough Moore
Author & Poet

Linda is the author of four books including THE BOOK OF NOT SO COMMON PRAYER, as well as hundreds of short stories, poems, essays and reviews. She lives and writes in western Massachusetts and mentors both poets and novelists. www.lindamcculloughmoore.com

Photography by Jonny Gios