{"id":9094,"date":"2020-04-13T05:37:16","date_gmt":"2020-04-13T10:37:16","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/matthewremski.com\/wordpress\/?p=9094"},"modified":"2020-04-13T05:37:16","modified_gmt":"2020-04-13T10:37:16","slug":"4-12-2020-emptiness","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/matthewremski.com\/wordpress\/4-12-2020-emptiness\/","title":{"rendered":"4\/12\/2020 | Clay Jar"},"content":{"rendered":"
<\/div>\n
\n
Carrying a clay jar of ointment,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
she turned the last corner on the path.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
The sun rose behind her, she paused.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
The stone was rolled away.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
There was an impulse to turn and run<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
Back to the men in charge.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
But it was so quiet.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
There was no rush, and nowhere to be. <\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
The thrushes and nightingales slept.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
Her constellation scattered,<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
She could follow the light into the cave.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
It was relieving to see no body,<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
No blood stains or purgations<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
Tinged with yellow and green.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
To not manage the swell of recognition<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
As the sun hit his hair.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
She saw no ghost of the child <\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
They might have had together.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
She could relax, free of triangulation.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
She did not hear his breathing,<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
His dark jokes, rambling grievances,<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
Quiet commands to pour wine.<\/span><\/div>\n
The melancholic sermons and calls to mystic war,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
Nor anything else it had been her role<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
To validate and soothe. <\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
She followed the light deeper <\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
To see more of nothing. <\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
No silhouette of empire, religion, plague.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
No scrolls or abaci.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
She saw no men, nor women who reflect men.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
No temple, or any need for memory beyond<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
This limestone of skeletons and shells.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
When even the emptiness became empty,<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
She turned sunward, holding the jar.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
Myrrh is gathered from wounding the stalk<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
Of a small thorny tree, then waiting <\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
To harvest the ambered sap.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
That’s a practical fact.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
She could use the ointment herself.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
To scent the moment of survivor’s guilt<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
As she walked away from his story<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
Towards a canceled schedule, different work<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
On this morning of the first day of a new week.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u2014 mr<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Carrying a clay jar of ointment, she turned the last corner on the path. The sun rose behind her, she paused. The stone was rolled away. [\u2026]<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":9095,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"slim_seo":[],"footnotes":""},"categories":[21,624,684,112],"tags":[696,697],"class_list":["post-9094","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-articles","category-collapse","category-covid-19","category-poetry","tag-easter","tag-mary-magdalen"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/matthewremski.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9094","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/matthewremski.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/matthewremski.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/matthewremski.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/matthewremski.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=9094"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/matthewremski.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9094\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/matthewremski.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/matthewremski.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=9094"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/matthewremski.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=9094"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/matthewremski.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=9094"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}