Mira Elizabeth L.

April 15, 2019

This is a desert place, and the hour is now past:
send away the multitudes…

– Matthew 14:15

Miracles are hard to come by these days;
Ides will thus warn us: wonders that profess
Resplendence ache to sing our debt to praise —
And yet we only envy happiness.
“Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani!”
Laments our world, fast in its barren tracts.
In Sisyphus we find no Calvary:
Zygote and embryo and fetus – facts.
Accounted human, though, such accidents
Belie necessity’s phantom commands —
Each birth, though fixed as stars or blowing sands,
Translates as one of nature’s sacraments.
Here, then, is life – given frame in its breaching;
Less taken, the more gifted in its reaching.


  1. Matthew B Lickona says


  2. Big Jon Bully says

    Good poem, but I don’t understand the Sisyphus line.


    • BJB,

      Sisyphus: Man without God or, to be metaphysical about it, man without telos, end, goal.

      I’m thinking of Christ’s via dolorosa juxtaposed with Sispyphus’s via vana – that is, the latter’s fruitless trek, endlessly pushing a boulder up the hill in Hades, never reaching his goal.


  3. Rufus McCain says

    Spolier alert: this poem references the birth of the latest La Mesa offspring! Wah–hooo!

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