Waiting for sunrise of the morning of Easter Vigil
My thoughts turn to my plight
It’s been a long arduous journey of good and evil
Like a San Francisco to Hong Kong flight

My weakness cannot be hidden in my window seat
Struggling not to squirm
My hair flattens and my makeup dries like overly-processed wheat
Screaming is what I yearn

The clock ticking, the mind racing, reading to quiet my thoughts
Yesterday’s farmer reaps what he sows
The high tech head produces lead like a machine when it’s hot
Fishers of men trust the most when the least is in their control

What lies before me fills my head in an otherwise slumbering bed
Experiential, though, it may seem I feel the nails in my hands
Torrential tears I did shed, I’m now looking ahead
The Risen Christ lift me up, I long to see your loving gaze caressing the sea and the land