Saturday, March 26, 2016

Holy Saturday


Yesterday,
we still heard 
his voice,
agonizing as it 
might have sounded.
“Father, forgive them…
Today, you will be with me…
Dear woman, your son…
My God, my God …
I am thirsty …
It is finished …
Father, into your hands…”

Still, we heard his voice.

Yesterday,
we wondered
why, oh why
is this day called
Good Friday.’
In disguise,
GRACE poured out
from nail-pierced
hands and feet,
from a sword’s wound,
from thorns pressed 
into flesh.

Yet, still, we heard his voice.

Today, 
scattered as we are,
we wait
in deafening silence.
At best, we cry
“How long, O LORD,
will you hide yourself 
forever?”
HOPE is now 
carefully wrapped
in linens and
sealed in a tomb.
“How long, O LORD,
will you hide yourself 
forever?”

In stillness,
earth awaits
the resurrection.

Today, there is no voice.

No comments:

Post a Comment