"dazzle gradually"

"Dazzle Gradually" 2017 poems, paintings, new art & photography--a diary, a discipline, a delight. Read over my shoulder as I post my unedited poetry ---you can see it in the raw or get my first book and see how the work evolves with new books rolling out next year.


Polly Alice

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Easter Basket Poem I

Every Easter for the past ten years I've written an Easter Poem; it sounds dashing, romantic, even scholarly--it's not--as usual it was lack of funds. I told myself cutting up my own "grass" out of old wrapping paper was bravely pioneering.  
The first year my husband and I were married, we found a little white basket for fifty cents at a garage sale.  It was hardly large enough to hold the small bag of candy I set inside.  "I know, I can write a poem, it's free!"  I said to myself.  That's where the tradition began, the poem taking on its own form.  Usually my only poem of the year, I crafted it to capture the essence of our lifestyle.  Each year was completely different: in another state, another strange living situation in someone's basement or a Victorian/dumpy apartment.  The poem was my constant weaving in an inexplicable life asking questions: What is Easter really about?  Are there any connections between this Easter basket, our life, and our spiritual journey? What does chocolate say about love and faith? 
Easter is really my favorite holiday.  I've bounced around from Palm Sunday to St. Patrick's day, but Easter is really what I've loved all along.  And a Spring Easter at that: the chilly sunrise service in a light blouse when earmuffs were called for; crocus and tulip tips pushing through snow.  The whole hemisphere promises to beat winter again this one more time.  After this winter, I'd rather never see another one.  Here is the first poem of many, and this year's Easter poem, only two weeks away, may be the hardest yet.

Easter Basket (2001)
Jesus was crucified today,
and so we vacuum the
green church carpet.

Channel 8 wishes us
a blessed Good Friday.

Jesus was  buried,
so you didn’t have to go to work today
but you got paid anyway.

That’s grace--like the warning
the police officer gave us
instead of a ninety-four dollar fine.

Jesus rose again from the grave,
so we get up for the early service
and boil eggs,

and I give you this Easter basket
with chocolates to tell you
all my strength comes from this--

Jesus rose again
and all our eggs are double yokes.
for this, I am grateful.

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