Wrapped Laid Loosened Freed

There, you were, dearest LORD,

Your arms which held the poor and hugged the child

bound now....tightly in ragged strips of cloth,

And your fingers which caressed the blind man’s eyes and touched our lips with bread 

stilled... by nail and wood

Your eyes which peered into hearts and wept for love

brushed closed... by the darkness of finality.  

Wrapped....

Tightly.  It suffocates us.  And stifles us.  

There, you were, dearest LORD,

Your flesh and blood abandoned on that godforsaken hill

broken and poured...

By your own flesh; your own blood you were left

in a tomb, hewn from rock and earth

The world careened to a stop and silence crawled

as, tended by our own hands, we buried love.

Laid...   

Cold.  Creeping our spines and chilling our bones.

And then, and now... 

How now, dearest LORD?

Has unexplained sweetness slipped from your lips

as you kissed the cosmos

And beginnings stirred again

as your heartbeat quickened and your pulse throbbed once more. 

Your limbs stretched and reached; 

as you rose and turned towards light.

Loosened...

Softened.  Waking.  Yearning.  

Now, now, dearest LORD,

What was laid dead within you; within me 

returns.

For we are no longer wrapped tightly; no longer laid bare; no longer waiting...

for you are not.

Even in your death, you have kept vigil over us

Death and despair are exhaled from your body  

and our lungs are filled with the rush of new morning air.

Clean.  Cold.  Crisp.  New.  

And you are risen.

And so am I.  So are we.  

Freed.  Oh, dearest LORD, so now we live again too.  Freed.