Resurrection
It’s the return that’s so rewarding
Not that we’re here in the first place,
Which we either can’t see or can’t grasp,
But the having returned from nothing
To a state of again, like sunlight
Breaking into colors off the edges of things
Or the forgotten friend from high school
Whose name in the in-box brings
Whole cemeteries of memory to life and dancing.
It’s not the appearance,
So common it fills the gutters,
But the reappearance
Like Bullwinkle the Moose leaping up
Among sunflowers in an old cartoon show
And your father is alive again
Looking at you from his green armchair,
Humorous protest in his mouth once more.
It’s the once more.
It’s the evidence of a before
That had dwindled to gone, revived,
Like a ship returning from around the world
That gives us a glimpse of ourselves
Years ago waving from the dock.
Like anything that was lost,
Returned for however long.
© Peter Cashorali
Peter Cashorali is a neurodivergent queer psychotherapist, formerly working in HIV/AIDS and community mental health, currently in private practice in Portland and Los Angeles. Recent work appears or is upcoming in Synkroniciti, Braided Way, Soul Forte Journal, Brief Wilderness, Midwest Zen.
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