Resurrection Day

Quiet, and tender, offering carried,

Perfumed balm, for body lain,

Down darkened path, ever deepening,

Of stagnant wounds, and stone carved grave.

Open entrance, a curiosity,

Guards slumped frozen, fixed in fear.

Sudden terror of realization,

The Lord is missing, he is not here!

Softly, gently, whisper floating,

Dispersing heavy breathless air,

See the grave clothes, linen lonesome,

Abandoned strips fluttering bare?

Why, oh why, eyes so downcast?

Raise your head and hear the voice

Of incandescent angel pointing,

Time’s past for mourning, now rejoice!

Grief eclipsed by understanding

The body’s risen as he said,

Tomb abandoned, hope now running,

Cease search for life among the dead!

Resurrected power, eternal,

Resurrected faith, not lost.

Tears depart, a waning memory.

Living water, without cost.

Dedicated to my friend, Alan Cotter.

(March 19, 1947-March 29, 2015) 


Copyright 2015 Sara Nelson O'Brien