EGGS AMONG THE BRAMBLE

 

 

EGGS AMONG THE BRAMBLE

 

“Why on earth do we have Easter Egg Hunt?” --- Grandson in University

 

What’s inside the egg, little one?

You said you have to break it.
“There, abuelo, it is just a chocolate.”

You parted bramble to find them

Sparkling with colours only mothers
Can imagine. “Anything else in the egg?”

I knew grandmother put some coins

In them, too, because it was a surprise,
Not unlike the thirty pieces of silver.

Why Easter Egg Hunt? What’s to hunt?

She said, impatiently brushing shrubs,
“Abuela said, Jesus is there in the egg.”

How the pagan ritual has transformed

This annual revelry into the mystery
Of the Cave I also call a womb tomb!

What’s inside your new egg, this time,

Little one? “I told you, Dada: Jesus.
When we break the egg, he comes again.”

Like a womb tomb, I said. “Not tom-tom.

Only Jesus coming out of the egg, ‘cause
He likes children to hunt coloured eggs.”

Among the bramble, I prayed quietly:

Into your tomb, Master, we will march,
Saving all the world’s suffering children.

---ALBERT B. CASUGA

04-20-14, Mississauga, Ontario