Emerging from Hades

to bring the blooms of Spring.

Trapped in death

a slave, a prisoner to Pluto,

to Hades.

A shade in death.

Freed in Spring to grace the earth with bud and bloom and life.

Like Proserpine,

our hearts are subject to slavery,

to prisons of desire, of death.

Little deaths, circles, patterns, repetition, falling, rising, falling again.

A prisoner of Hades;

to the freedom of Spring once again.

But the circle continues upon itself.

Proserpine, though a prisoner for a time, is always a prisoner

because she must return to Hades, to death no matter her freedom.

Is there ever an end? How long?

One has entered Hades and set prisoners free. Proserpines.

Those dead, but more importantly, those still living, once dead.

The circle, the repetition of life to death; death to life ends.

Prisoners of Hades set free–if they follow this One who conquered Hades.

Death has an end.

Proserpine set free. Spring always present.



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