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I’ve shared poems by John Roedel before; I love his stuff. This one is the result of his experience this morning. I found it powerfully perfect for Easter.

(It’s okay if you’re not up for reading a long poem. I’m happy to give away the ending: Hope endures.) 🌻

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The poet sat at his computer for two hours on Easter morning without being able to produce a single word.

His hands resting on the keyboard like starfish drying out on a beach. His eyes fixated on the blinking cursor that mocked him with every flutter.

He had so much he wanted to say to you – but couldn’t find a way to start.

The poet knew you likely also had such a weight on your shoulders and he just wanted to find a way to take some of it off before you were crushed by the heaviness of everything.

The poet closed his
eyes and he could feel it all.

All of the heavy emotions of the world were seeping under the door. The despair started wrapping him as if it were a hungry python.

The snake slid under the poet’s tear duct and made his way down to the his heart.

All of the fear.
All of the sadness.
All of the anger.
All of the war.
All of the greed.
All of the inhumanity.

It all coiled around the poet until he couldn’t focus on anything but the endless anguish of the world.

“Write something,” the poet hissed at himself through his pursed lips.

He figured if he could start with a single word to get the ball rolling – anything.

Just write something.
Now.
Write.
Go!

Nothing happened.
No words came.

The hands of the poet
remained still.

So so so still.

The emotions of the planet were swallowing him up and soon he felt he might be gone altogether.

When his family would come looking for him they would just find his shoes and an untyped document. Every other little bit of him would be devoured by the darkness.

The poet looked out the window.

The world was raging.
Everyone was holding signs.
Everyone was shouting at each other. Everyone was building fences between one another.

The python of despair continued to tighten around his heart.

“This is how it ends,” the snake said as it began to squeeze his heart like a breakfast grapefruit.

The poet could feel the tightness in his chest. He could feel the despair pinch itself around him. He took a gasping breath and watched for the darkness he assumed that was about ready to rise up out of the floorboards and gobble him up up up.

The poet and the python waited for his end to come – but that is when the miracle happened.

The harder the snake
coiled around
his heart the more light
poured out of the poet’s eyes.

At first, the light was subtle – like little particles of glowing dust caught under the lights above.

The snake’s expression changed to as if to say “Uh oh.”

The emotions of the world hissed louder and started to squeeze as tight as it could around the poet.

As that happened, the light from his eyes sharpened into beams, then lightning, melting the snake.

The heat of the light pouring out of the eyes of the poet melted the snake down like an old Lenten candle.

“What’s happening?” the python asked.

“I’m not sure. But I think the more despair you tried to smother me with the more hope seemed to squeeze out of me,” the poet said.

“Oh…damn,” the python groaned as it became a purple puddle of waxy sadness and grief.

The poet looked back out through the window. The world was still raging. People were still screaming at each other. However, this time, none of that scared him nearly as much.

This time the poet knew exactly what to write to you on this Easter morning.

It was his shortest poem ever.

“Hope endures,” he typed.

~ john roedel