empty tomb

Every day I cared for him.
I took the herbs prepared for him.
I washed the face that loved to smile.
I washed the feet that walked for miles.

I gazed upon his handsome face,
All laughter gone, his smile erased,
His eyes, once shining, closed in death,
His body still, no single breath.

My lord is gone.
With him my song.
My tears run down
Upon the ground.
I am alone.

One day I came and nearly swooned.
The stone was gone, an open tomb.
His body on the ground no more,
His wrappings cast upon the floor.

A shadow blocked the sun behind.
I turned around and gasped to find
A stranger there, in front of me,
Standing and watching silently.

“Woman,” he asked, “why are you weeping?
He smiled at me.  “Whom are you seeking?”
“Sir if you took my lord away,
“Tell me where he is, I pray.”

My lord is gone.
With him my song.
My tears run down
Upon the ground.
I am alone.

The stranger smiled and spoke my name.
“Mary.”  The voice was still the same.
I gasped.  It was my Lord, alive!
I ran to him.  “Rabboni!” I cried.

He backed away and shook his head.
“Do not cling to me,” he said.
“I am not yet ascended.  Go,
He said.  “Let the others know.”

I ran so fast, I nearly fell,
Crying, shaking with joy, to tell.
“I have seen the Lord!” I said.
“Returned to us, back from the dead.”

My lord is come,
Renewed my song.
My tears run down
Upon the ground.
We’re not alone!

He came to us, behind closed doors,
To fill us all with joy once more.
“Peace be with you,” he smiled and said
At the evening feast of unleavened bread.

He showed us all his hands and feet,
The wound in his side. I began to weep.
His eyes, so kind, but different now.
As though he’d gone to hell and back somehow.

Once more he spoke, “Peace be unto you.
“As the father sent me, I am sending you.”
His breath flowed out upon our heads.
“Receive the Holy Spirit,” he said.

My lord is come,
Renewed my song.
My tears run down
Upon the ground.
We’re not alone!

Eight days went by and we rejoiced.
Our Lord was back.  We heard his voice.
Yet one doubted, stubbornly.
“I won’t believe until I see.”

That night Jesus came to us again.
“Touch the wounds on my side, my hands.”
The doubting one cried, “My Lord, I see!”
“The blessed,” He said, ‘first believe.”

My lord is come,
Renewed my song.
My tears run down
Upon the ground.
We’re not alone!

One day by the Sea of Tiberias,
After all day fishing and empty nets,
He came to us, but we didn’t know him.
He spoke to Peter and all the men.

To Peter, he said, “Feed my sheep.”
“Rabbi!” said Peter, as though waking from sleep.
Jesus smiled.  “Follow me,” he said.
We did, our rabboni, back from the dead.

One day he left us, but we carried on.
We told everyone the good news from then on.
Many were tortured.  So many died.
Yet we rejoiced. Our Lord was alive.

My lord is come,
Renewed my song.
My tears run down
Upon the ground
We’re not alone!

s.m.o.

5 april 2015