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Paschal

by Robert Pinsky [for my fellow Christians of the pagan persuasion]   Easter was the old North    Goddess of the dawn.    She rises daily in the East    And yearly in spring for the great    Paschal candle of the sun.    Her name lingers like a spot    Of gravy in the figured vestment    Of the language of the Britains.    Her totem the randy bunny.    Our very Thursdays and Wednesdays    Are stained by syllables of thunder    And Woden's frenzy.    O my fellow-patriots loyal to this    Our modern world of high heels,    Vaccination, brain surgery—    May they pass over us, the old    Jovial raptors, Apollonian flayers,    Embodiments. Egg-hunt,    Crucifixion. Supper of encrypted    Dishes: bitter, unrisen, a platter    Compass of martyrdom,    Ground-up apples and walnuts    In sweet wine to embody mortar    Of affliction, babies for bricks.    Legible traces of the species    That devises the angel of death