* * * * *
A Song For Poor Lazarus
A Poem Of Grim Fact
Behind the drum major
Fingers sway on flutes,
And the drum rolls slow,
As the marching band
Takes heavy measure
Through the
Piece.
The winds lift the refrain
And the music rises
Like the angels
Who carry
Poor Lazarus
To heaven.
The horseshoes'
Cadence shatter
The rhythms
Pulling the base groan
Of wheels bearing
The black wagon.
Kings and peasants both
Have ridden therein,
To
Lie in the earth,
Where
No matter how ornate the casket
It is all the same
Inside.
I know this is a little dark, and I do not really like writing dark poems, but the muse spoke, so I must listen. I believe in the afterlife and salvation through faith in Christ. The first step toward God is awareness of our need and our lostness as expressed in death and the fear of judgment. I have other more optimistic poems, and I hope you spend some time reading them too.
*The parable of Lazarus
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(c) A.E. Dozat 5/14/15
