I am the Atheist of Spring

I am the atheist of spring

     I fled Her

     And She fled me

  

     Like Her nightly passes 

     Over doors brushed with lamb’s blood

     She chants “Judas, Judas”

     Looks for a son

(Does Her cross lie in a bed of blossoms?

  It is hidden just as I)

     I paint my tendril arms in poppies 

     As the lamb for Her slaughter

     She pauses

     “Bring life to this one

      For she is more dead than my brother”

Author's Note

Spring brings hope for some, others not so much.

Reviews

[Nautili]

oh my....very interesting. Spring and her promises of new life (and love perhaps) has betrayed you and left you an unbeliever in her charms. I love the last lines denoting that you are more dead than winter, that is so powerful!
It makes you wonder about her cross hidden in the flowers....for those who do not feel her rejuvenation powers, it could be that-the pain of not feeling more alive in the Springtime. But still, you paint your arms as poppies, so hope rests at the bottom of your well. There is a depth to this poem that really merits much thought. I loved it.

[Chris]

Its hard to think of spring as the ending this one is about to be... all the other times it held such POWER and HEART and hopes.

[emmajoy]

Dark moves into the sadness of being, bitter-sweet emotions, written in near biblical words that capture a mood and time. ' paint my tendril arms in poppies ~ As the lamb for Her slaughter.

The season is supposed to be renaissance, a tragedy otherwise, tears.

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

This is quite interesting... it is hard to believe in someone who does not believe in us... the cryptic nature of this poem has my brain stirring.

[Audrey Howitt]

Well done! Lovely imagery and lovely use of form!

[Moflo]

This piece is very well worded, keeps the reader hooked to what appears to be a superior write. Great job. I love the imagery!

[Divinity Sleeps in This]

I like the biblical settings of your feeling. Thank you for writing this, you know that to me your words are like drops from the tap.