Sunday, April 09, 2006

day thirty-nine moment

no where do I feel so inclined
to take the shoes from my feet
as when I am near the cross

the tomb is dark
the earth is cool
the aroma of spices fills the air

the setting sun ushers in a High Holy Day
a day of forced rest
with time for quietness and reflection

this Sabbath day is kept holy
and there are those who mourn deeply

the small group of women
consumed with sadness

the men who followed Christ
grieve together

weary after a night dreaming of blood

worried someone would steal the body
sends soldiers to guard the tomb

and all the while
the Lord of the Sabbath
crashes through the gates of hell
to proclaim victory over sin and death

how many Lord
embrace the dance of death
while You declare life

how I long to live in the realm where You move and work
though hope seems sealed up in a tomb

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