Islander in the City | Pablo A. Tariman:


The Lord has risen

On this another Sunday

Of our sorrow.


I hear bells ring

In the nearby church

I feel a slight breeze

Rustle my potted plants.


It is the day of resurrection

But death stalks the internet

Full of grim news

Of friends and acquaintances gone

As more await healing

In the house of agony.


As the Lord has risen

You think of ways

To find rebirth

Amidst the mountain

Of grief.


You have to resuscitate

Your spirit

And find strength

In growing grandchildren.



You have to keep flying

In the open skies

Of uncertainty.


You have to revive

Faith in the morning

You have to resurrect


For your own sake

And your loved ones.


The Lord has risen

You have to redefine

What kindness is

And what it means

To a suffering milieu.


You have to find hope

In the sea of despair.

And find solace

In your restless heart.



Is retracing

A good dream

Before it fades

Into the labyrinth

Of nightmare.


The Lord has risen

With it comes

The promise

Of sunrise.


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