Groggy, sure, and in the midst of bad dreams, it must have been a dispirited awakening -- expecting everything settled, the long night without interruption suddenly interrupted, like a four a.m. alarm bell but worse, the rock rolled back, to be called forth, told to pick up the yoke, to pay your bills, get the roof fixed, become a bit of proof in the Lord's affidavit, just when you thought your history complete, your problems solved -- bad wages, long hours. Now the crowd pushes forward, demanding to hear your cries of thanks. If you refused, crawled back into your tomb, well, their hope, recently upraised, would need a tomb of its own. Where would be His miracle without your deceit -- your laugh and eager shout, the out-stretched arms? Copyright 2001 by The Modern Poetry Association. This poem appears in the April 2001 issue of @3Poetry Magazine.@1 http://poetrymagazine.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN GRANTCHESTER MEADOWS; ON HEARING A SKYLARK SING by GEORGE SANTAYANA MY PRETTY ROSE TREE, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE SONNET TO ZOE KING by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 66. THE THREE AGES OF WOMAN: 1 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE LITTLE MOTHERS by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON THE DIRGE OF WALLACE by THOMAS CAMPBELL THE TWO BOBBIES by BLISS CARMAN EPITAPH ON MY DEAR COUSIN GERMAN MRS. OLIVE COTTON by ASTON COCKAYNE |