When I left
my thoughts in the days
after
death,
as tic marks arose
like the blades of grass

-too numerous to count

and for their random stacking
could have buried
my understanding the
true
meaning of

resurrection-
beyond
reanimation of blood and
bone.

it is reinvention
of joy,
in the covered fields
that can be walked upon,
the horizons remote and straddling,
the light and dark places
that replace the terminus.