Ask a linguist,
or a yogi,
and they will tell you
that the root of Easter
is not in ease,
but in aurora,
a deceptively easy
daily miracle
of quotidian splendor,
of transforming flames,
from which we hide,
behind our alarm clocks,
imagining how easy
life would be
if we could simply
stay here,
in our old
familiar
darkness.
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