to the tomb

to the tomb...

Come with me

to the tomb —

Walk with me

over shards of glass

Trudge through

pits of quicksand, walk

with me along this fractured

road where we reach

our fingertips

over chasms, too far

apart to touch.

Weep with me

as it rains, grief

and mourning plummeting

from the sky. We feel

it in our brittle,

dry bones,

the sorrow. Every step

bringing us closer but

also further.

A kinetic standstill

in the waiting.

Come with me

to the tomb. Wade

with me through the River of

Red,

which flows in torrents, covering

us until we wonder,

are our tears red, too? And then,

on the other side

we emerge,

and merge.

Did you see something?

A ghost, perhaps, or

a man

always there

before us and after us

beside us.

“Come with me

to the tomb,” is an echo

around us now.

“It isn’t far.”

There are more of us now,

emissaries

pushing past the chasms.

One

by one,

we are coming.

—

We are there.

A gentle wind glides

over our skin,

it is warmth and joy.

We smile, forgetting

the cuts on bottoms our feet

and the dryness of our bones.

The stone is rolled away, revealing

emptiness,

but not the kind

that leads to suffering.

This emptiness is brimming

with freedom. With

the kind of grace that cannot

come from any other place.

This empty tomb.

This tomb overflowing

with sacrifice, with

the blood of a Savior left

behind so that the

dirt will never forget

He was there, until

He wasn’t anymore.

Come with me,

to the empty tomb where

we may worship and remember

Who peels the glass

from our feet, Whose

breath fills our lungs and

Who will stitch the chasms back together.

Who emptied the tomb and

then filled it

with Eternity.