The Treatise on the Resurrection, Part I

I’m not sure what would be accomplished bringing Kevin back, aside from my very own wont – if he wanted – for him to live again. I mean the afterlife could be so wonderful my brother might not want to come back. But just the same, I’d like him back because I do love him; I do; because it makes sense that he still be here; and I would want him back in order that I might come to know the how and the why he left in the first place. Since his passing I have rarely felt alone or that he was entirely gone. The distance between us contracts and expands enigmatically. To me Kevin went no further than God and God is very near to me, however inly invisible, imperishable, incomprehensible… Indivisible. However I inch myself away, my face buried in my hands, a burdened creature once more, doubt the waking lacunae. Like a thief, Kevin returns in the uninhibited night breaking into my dreams; by day he is a distant stranger turning just so; particles congeal into a wave of possibility. Kevin is a fluted glory singing in my chest, thrumming in my limbs. There are times when my gaze finds him in the unsuspecting glass. Unobtrusively he came into the world; my brother’s exit was harder attended by many whose dumb hands could not lift him back. His spirit, his ghost, the fission remains as if I were an electrical current sparking his revival; he is then with me in body-form, in my unreliable sight, smoking a cigarette easy in repose or I witness him, his eyes blissfully sealed, like his coffin pose, as if listening to the low rumble of Andrea Boccelli. The day, the hour, the moment is never known when Kevin comes or the moment, the hour, the day when I go, though I know it will be so. The world illusion, resurrection real. “…already you have resurrection.” As dead stars continue to flame beyond their brindled exeunt anniversary. Darkness is as light.

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