One well establshed view of Lent exempts
Its fasts from Sundays. I suppose that means
I could relax a little more these morns
(Although I note, amused, that Sundays spur
Me from my bed and on the road to church
Before I must bestir myself for work
On Monday; ’tis the choir singer’s lot),
Leave for tomorrow poem-prayers, relieve
The mind of searching for a word that suits.
Today is Resurrection Day. They asked
Of Jesus, whose disciples failed to share
The common fast, why they would celebrate
And eat? “But who could fast,” he said, “Who are
Companions with the Son of Man?” So who
Could turn aside from joy the day that marks
His resurrection? Who – not I – could miss
The opportunity to praise the One
Who gifts us life, and life eternally?
And who, despite long custom, can restrain
The inner song abjured in Lent, and with
A softly joyful voice, murmur in
The heart its “Hallelujah!”?