New day has dawn, yep, resurrection moya!

The lambs are gambling, the honey is being made, sun shining so all is good with our world.
40 days of penitence, we give up the sweets, the chocs, the drink and perhaps more besides, we then do the thumping of breasts in woeful sorrow, the nails are used again in human flesh, omg! thus is the dignity of the human body our God supposedly gave to us, sure he never intended for another to nail on a cross, he did it for all - so we could see a resurrection from - sin and also a new way to eternity, and that is what i say 'moyah' to.
its the penitence, the new day and way.
where have i seen all this.  well most Easters anyway.
you think that with the sunny comes the goodness and goddesses and god like behaviours, but you get the funnies instead.
well not so funny really but certainly few have found the way to better behaviours and embrace their own kind and so 40days of supposedly spending that time in reflection (going nuts for sugar), was not engaged with, the strict loyalty to your promise to refrain from the candy yes, your ability to work the brain, no.
no brain was worked for me over the Easter period.
I dont expect it, but then you do hope - what is Easter, a start for the bright new day and a new horizon and new beginnings, aka in the souls of the church goers and also in the souls of those who do not.
it was the same bloody awful event.
Last year i got nicked for not having a tax disc in date, when i am exempt from paying tax.
this year i didn't get nicked nor a choc egg, last year i did, and a gluten free eggie too, this year i got those wee wooden ones, on a bit of string.
The charity too in generosity of seeing me there along with twin was a-missing too.
for the party was over and we were invited to the afters, but there were no afters.
a suggestion was made we sleep in the conserve while the horses jumped over sticks.
I and my partner in life the twin agreed on the same line of thinking, we were not in anyway good enough comparison to the four legged horse so we legged it, our four legs home.
we had started out absolutely knackered, as only sick people know, and as only severely compromised in all organs and limbs know.
the hair was washed, we fished for the nicest of outfits we took time dressing and then had a rest.
we sat in that van and couldn't start the journey without a wee pause to catch the energy to do so.
to drive on no juice is a masterly task, and the twino dying for sleep as the eye lids showed heavy.
and my belly needed a long drink and my eyes were weary of the strong light, we begged for the swinger, with head nuts touching to embrace each other in our lonliness, our togetherness and our conditions for which we have aplenty and a sign that it be acknowledged by us as none others do.
so the lonliness of the wicked twin sisters was felt all the more abundantly after our huge effort to arrive not before three pm, we hit that with five minutes to go.
we have been lavishly lashed for 'being spoilt' when we opted for sleeping on the swinger, whilst the horses who were jumping sticks were being watched in another room by our host.
we came home gutted, depressed and even more tired.
we sat silently on that swinger and just felt empty, no words could explain it, swinging and swinging whilst the blackbird sang and the iron works creaked, i must oil them joints as the twin hates the noise.
that is the rusty parts of the swinger, for oil wont do for my own for sure.
we departed then.
i got into my jammies, and twin slept on the swingseat, her shoes with the leg brace sticking out from under a light throw, her black hair tossed.
i went onto the bed and wanted to weep.
what the hell is it about.
and where is all this leading my friend, the future, like. where?
my twin still remains on the sofa, the dog in coolock, and i have to say more rooms out there to serve a good job but which lie in crisp irish linen, unrumpled, vacant as our heads felt on our return from one.
so many comfortable rooms to lay a head in the forests of beauty other than sleep on a sofa in a tiny room in alcoholic boosie land.
the birds sing here too, thank god for that.
but i have to say, they do so knowing the joy of resurrection of a new day and a day for plenty and plenty to sing about after a long winter.
not so the human for which the world is supposed to turn for.
not so the Human for whom God sacrificed himself and his body on a cross, he didn't ask us to copy this act, he asked us to do what the act suggested and he did it to show the world that he loved us so, so much he gave his life.
those that hammered  nails into their flesh in recognition of this would do better to stay out of the hospitals and get mrsa but use the hands for the good of others.
God understands that, as many would, God doesn't understand belting nails into the modern man's flesh for demo and nothing more.
bring back the resurrection, and let us all live as it was intended, to share all and to share joy and to help each other along the way of life.
dont abandon all to be swingers.